Daddy's Orders
by livrosequinn97
Summary: Shaylee Jane Napier's father is a criminal and her mother is a drunk, but that never stopped her from idolising her father, Jack Napier. As she grows older, something in her changes. Jack is turning insane until he becomes the Joker himself. After his alleged death, she becomes Princess Jane, the criminal beauty, and she is prepared to follow his orders to make Gotham finally fall.
1. Prologue

*****This is my first ever fanfiction, so please, bare with me! :P I know the whole "Joker's Daughter" thing has been done to death, but honestly, I wanted to try and create my own story, and hopefully something a bit different. I do appreciate feedback :) I was inspired to write this by another Joker's daughter fanfiction I read on Wattpad, "Daddy's Little Girl." **

**DISCLAIMER: Of course, I do not own any of the characters from the Dark Knight movie, all of them belong to DC Comics, as does Harley Quinn. The only characters I own are Shaylee, Diana, Chase and the minor characters.**

**NOTE: This is a dark story! I have rated it T due to scenes of violence and threat, and possibly some mild sexual content in later chapters (but not a lot I swear XD) It will contain scenes that some readers may find uncomfortable or disturbing. But you know, that's how The Joker rolls. You have been warned!*****

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><p><strong>Prologue <strong>

For as long as I can remember, I've been exposed to delicious danger. I've been exposed to all kinds of strange happenings. Even as a young girl, my hands would touch unfamiliar things that would spark my mind, my bedroom walls were exposed with my smudged drawings of bats and playing card designs, and the sirens wailing outside my window became normal.

Up until I was fifteen, I lived in a tiny flat in the little isolated Gotham Town, which just on the outskirts of Gotham City. I lived there with my father. It was so cramped we struggled living there, but it didn't matter. Dad was always out and about and spent most of my time in my bedroom, drawing all kinds of gory scenes. We lived off a room with a running tap, a stove and a refrigerator, two squeezed-in bedrooms and a room consisting of a 1970's dying television set, a torn apart sofa, a table, a fireplace and one single photo of my grandmother. I currently live in the City. I don't have my own house. Hell, I don't even have the _money_. Probably because I haven't got a job, but I don't need one.

I don't go to school. I was expelled when I was thirteen, but neither dad nor I cared at all. I couldn't stand the sight of other kids. They all stared at me like I was some kind of outcast, like I was a freak. Just because I wear something a little more outlandish, but, this city is chock full of idiots like that. They're the ones who are freaks, roaming around this place like they're actually happy to be here. Gotham Town is still run by the people in Gotham City, including the piece of crap they have for a "police force". It sucks. Gotham's full of people who take no notice of the smaller kind, who are all hypocrites. It's such a joy to have a police force that's so appalling, because they let you get away with murder. Literally.

I'm just lucky, you see, because I have my dad, who's looked after me since I was ten years old. I'm nearly seventeen now, and I have no grades, no friends and no ambitions. But I do have many other things that some other teenagers won't have. I have skill. I have defence. I have intelligence. I didn't need math or science to make me clever, just the pure brilliance of me and my father's genius minds. It's all about genetics. Thank goodness I inherited dad's intelligence and not mom's.

He is all I have.

When I was a child, my father was out all day most days. Sometimes never getting back until very late. I never panicked though, because I knew he was going to return every time. And he did. Without fail. He always came back to make sure I was fine, to see if I was defending myself, to see if I was being strong and bearing no hideous wounds. He's a criminal, if you must know, and he's a damn good one, too. No, I'm not ashamed my dad's a criminal, as long as he cares about me, he's the best man in the world. I know he would never let anything happen to me, which I am eternally grateful for.

His name is Jack Napier. Well, that's his real name. He's known to all as The Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime. What does that make me? The child of a scummy murderer? Well, you could say that, but, more recently, I prefer to be called The Clown Princess of Crime. Like I said, I've been exposed to danger from a young age, exposed to pure darkness. I've seen the sensation it brings to dad, and I've felt the adrenaline, I've touched the sharp end and examined an endless amount of funny expressions, filled with shock. Shock that a young girl like me could be so cruel and so heartless.

Being a "friendly citizen" is so overrated. Dad has always told me Gotham is a place that needs to improve its established order, to get rid of people who will only make it worse. People like the Batman and Commissioner James Gordon for example.

At this moment in time, Gotham is still a pitiful place. Harvey Dent is dead, after dad ran around the City rampant like the madman he is, but no one's ever going to stop him from doing what his mind tells him to do, because he can't control his mind. I've seen him be beaten down by his overpowering brain and it tears me apart inside.

The stories dad told me about his recent little visit to the City were unbelievable, I mean, the mess he created there was horrifyingly wonderful. It really did show the citizens' true colours, with his little 'social experiments.'

Although at times, he did frighten me.

Dad was then thrown away in Arkham, and I just couldn't bare being away from him for any longer.

So I unleashed the pain and horror that's been inside my head since before I can remember.

I let Princess Jane escape.

I'm the Joker's daughter, but I'm not his sweet and innocent little girl. I'm his supporter of crime. His co-agent of chaos.

My real name is Shaylee Jane Napier.

And this is my story.


	2. Chapter 1 - The First Trigger

*****Hey guys, so this is the first proper chapter of my very first fanfic! This is a flashback chapter, there will be a few of these, but they are important in terms of showing Shaylee's past and some of the Joker's as well. The Joker's (or Jack's) first appearance is in the next chapter. Also, Shaylee is the daughter of Heath Ledger's Joker (as we are in Dark Knight fanfic), R.I.P 3.**

**Thank you!*****

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – The First Trigger<strong>

My earliest memory of my own complete madness traces back to when I was just eight years old.

I looked like your typical eight-year old little girl. Thick brown hair (like mom's) in pigtails, deep brown eyes (like dad's) that sparkled with innocence, a pale complexion with a perfectly rounded face, complete with a cheeky grin. I was lucky I was a super cute child, I could fool people more easily then.

The time of year was about February, and it was an awful blustery Sunday afternoon. Rain was battering my shabby window, and our small, isolated flat was freezing. I was tucked up in my bed, shivering. In my hand I shakily held my drawing pad with my special pen (which dad had stolen for me). I'd been drawing for hours and was getting restless. Dad was out, of course, probably off to rob a bank in Gotham or something. I didn't even question what he was doing then because I knew he was being awesome, unlike mom who fired questions at him endlessly. Mom was in the sitting room at this time, but I had no clue what she was doing. She never came to talk to me.

I'd had enough, so I hid under my thin covers and strained my eyes staring ahead of me, ready for dad to return home with a pile of money.

I suddenly heard footsteps approaching my room, making me alert. I gripped my pad and flung the covers away, hoping dad would be standing in my doorway.

Turns out it was only mom.

My mom's name was Diana Jane Jenson. Her voice was like a bullet, it was ready to trigger at any moment and when it did, all hell was let loose. She yelled at dad more than me, though, but she did bombard me with some horrific names. She was just as bad as the loser kids in school. To give her some credit though, she did care a little bit, she always tried to keep me safe, especially when dad had been gone for hours on end.

Stress had taken over her mind. She and dad had been quarrelling like street cats more than ever now. I'd heard thumping and loud bangs when I was in bed at night, but I never witnessed it for myself yet. Dad more or less had the last word every time, of course. I noticed as the years went by, dad's yelling became more and more insane.

When I saw it was her, I scrambled back into bed, hugging my pad and turning my back on her. Talking to her now was pointless, I knew she'd just scream at me.

"Shaylee?" I heard her say.

I simply refused to speak. I stroked my pad, pretending not to listen.

"Shaylee, honey…" she dared to continue. "I'm going out. Okay? Possibly to Gotham's city centre. To find your father. I'm worried about him."

I darted around at the thought of my father. I found it strange that mom was worried about him, making me stare at her for a few moments. I found that staring at someone for a while makes them more uncomfortable, while leaving me fascinated. I was very smart for an eight-year-old, I was fully aware my mom was not happy, but I also knew my dad didn't care one bit. He only cared about me.

"Then I'm coming, too," I said, starting to crawl to the end of the bed. I was deadly serious, after all.

"No, Shaylee, you stay here," she said, kneeling down to my level.

"No, I want to come!" I shouted, trying to push my way past her.

Mom held me back, firmly, and glared at me. "Shaylee, listen. It's too busy out there today. We know what your father's like, God knows what he's up to right now." She paused, still holding my arms. Her voice shook a little bit, as she glanced up towards the ceiling, and then back towards me, who was growing impatient. "I think there's something wrong with him. He won't let me take him to a doctor…"

"He doesn't want to go to a doctor, mom," I interrupted, defensively.

"I know but, the things he's doing now…it may get worse, Shay."

"But I want to come and find him!"

"Calm down, calm down. Just leave me to it, okay? I'll lock the door. Just, just…" She lost her voice in the midst of her terrified mind. I was still trying to escape her grasp, but I had no chance against her.

She then kissed me gently on the forehead while I wriggled around trying to avoid it, she rose up and left the room, slamming the door behind her. I immediately turned away and rubbed my head violently, like it had been infected. I heard our front door slam and the key locking it.

"MOM!" I screamed.

I was used to being left alone in the house, but it always sparked the anger in me. The thought of being left alone, especially with dad not being there, made the walls in out flat rumble with my screaming. My mind was telling me to suddenly fight back. I wasn't _that _obedient anyway. I was so annoyed by the fact mom had just decided to leave me in favour of going to look for dad, plus I hated the fact dad wasn't home at all. I was distressed that day already, I just couldn't take it. My head started banging, taking control of my thoughts.

I rushed to the front door and desperately tugged on the handle, screaming on the top of my lungs. My screams echoed in the hallway, I felt my eyes becoming wet, my head was reeling with thoughts of dad…and mom…yelling. The thought of dad being caught.

I couldn't help but scream, I had to do it to drown out the thoughts.

I fell on my tiny knees and whimpered in front of the door, like a petulant dog. I was only a little girl at the time, remember, so I had no idea what to think about all this. It sounds really peculiar, I know, but this what happened every time I was left alone, I lost my rag and broke out into horrible hysterics.

"Mommy…" I was sobbing, still clinging onto the door handle. "Mommy come back…come BACK! I want to go with you!" I yanked the handle hard, pointlessly, as I still screamed.

At that moment, I heard shuffling in the kitchen area, making me jump and turn around, my back now up against the door. My cries had woken our nine-year-old Rottweiler, Ace, who came plodding into the hallway, casually.

I was scared of Ace, I had no idea why mom and dad decided to get a dog in the first place. There was barely room for him, plus we hadn't the money to care for him. They got him when they first moved in together, before they had me. He was _so boring_, as well. All he did was sleep all day and he made no effort to nuzzle me when I was lonely. Dad said he thought he'd make a "fun addition" to the family, but it turned out that dad can't stand him either. Mom's the one who looks after him, in fact she loved that damn thing more than me. Dad yelled at him too, one time pushing him into a wall, and I remember us both laughing as the scruffy thing went out, limping. It was funny, Dad loved dogs apart from the one he owned. He truly was unpredictable.

The last thing I needed was the dog coming in and being in my way. I glared at him as he entered the room, lazily laying down next to me. His puppy eyes triggered my impatience.

"Go away, Ace," I moaned, trying to push him away, like dad did. He flinched, but in no way was he about to move. "Come on, Ace, leave me alone." I was panting hard from my crazy encounter. I looked above me to the door handle again, and then back to Ace, who was annoyingly close to my foot.

A sudden flash in me made me kick the dog hard with the foot he was resting on, groaning loudly in my girly-high pitched voice. As I watched him jump up in horror and scamper away, I began to laugh. I laughed hard, scrunching my little face up, and I laughed so hard until the point I was holding my stomach. I couldn't help it. It was just the way Ace had pathetically leaped up and run away, he was so stupid.

Once I calmed myself down, I sighed heavily and did not move for maybe five minutes. It all seemed very quiet now, except my head still quietly went on. I wasn't sure what was playing in my mind, but it was like it was preparing me for a fight. I listened very carefully, because I, as you know, was not stupid. I stared ahead and paid attention closely.

This was not me anymore.

Of course, at the time I had no idea what this was, but the thought of noises in my head taking control of my thoughts did not scare me. It actually intrigued me. I'd often seen how dad would take his time when talking to someone. He'd glance up every now and then to listen to an invisible person above him, almost like a random person was talking to him in his head, giving him instructions on something clever to say. His voice would change occasionally when talking to mom, sometimes it was soft and dangerous, and other times vulgar and menacing, totally taking control of her.

The noises weren't that loud in my head at that time, and after banging my head on the wall several times, I finally felt calm again. Although I was still irritated, I decided to not let that get to me and decide to keep calm. Dad was always very calm after a row with mom, acting like it had never happened and I was determined to be like him.

I made my way into mom and dad's room, which was simply a lamp dangling by a thread on the ceiling, a double bed, a rusty chest of drawers and a small wardrobe. I'd been in there many times, but out of the blue I wanted to explore. I'd ran out of ideas to draw, so I looked around for inspiration. I filed through dad's clothes, just out of curiosity. I went through an absurdly large amount of suits and ties. Some of them were even colourful, the ties decorated with pretty patterns, which left me very puzzled. I'd never noticed dad wearing clothes like this before.

Then I noticed neat piles of small pots at the bottom. I picked the one on the top up and curiously fiddled with it, as I'd never seen one of these before either. "Standard White Face Paint" it read. It certainly didn't look like the make-up mom used, hers was all neatly coordinated on her tiny dressing table in the sitting room. With a hard yank I pulled off the top and there it was, a pot of thick white face paint, but my young self saw it as make-up. Without thinking I plunged my delicate finger in it until it was covered with heavy white paint.

I sat crossed-legged on the floor, still gripping the pot in my hand and staring at my finger in white paint. My mind then thought of many reasons why dad was keeping this stuff hidden amongst his clothes. One theory was he was going to paint the house, but, he was never up to stuff as boring as that. Maybe he'd bought it for me to play dress up and it was a secret. If that was the case, I'd just ruined it all. I knew for a fact, however, that dad had probably stolen all of this.

I panicked, and quickly placed the lid back on it. I hid back in the wardrobe with the others and banged the door noisily. Bad mistake. The door now had an untidy line of white paint across it. I gasped in horror and rushed to the bathroom, nearly knocking the dog over again. I was wheezing by the time I'd gotten there and on my tiptoes I reached for the flannel on the top shelf. Of course I was obviously going to use it to wipe the paint of dad's wardrobe, but I got one hell of a surprise when I looked at the flannel. Although it was quite faint, I could see that the exact same white paint was all over the flannel.

My eyes widened and my little brain was filled with wonder. I dropped it on the floor and gradually walked out of the bathroom and past Ace, who wouldn't stop staring at me. I thought to myself, this was very strange. I'd never seen this before in the flat, and now suddenly it seemed like it was everywhere.

I was now back in mom and dad's room, my mind still racing with thought. You know what they say, a child's curiosity can lead to many things, dangerous or not. I slumped against the front door again, waiting for dad to come home. I didn't care if mom came back or not, she'd see the paint on the door and make my eyes red. Then again, she'd know if the paint was in there, right? Maybe she didn't. Mom and dad didn't share a lot, never ever.

I sat down against the end of their bed, fiddling with the end of my t-shirt. Why could I never keep still? Their door was still wide open before me, with Ace laying there in front of it. My eyes trailed around the room for a while, investigating new ideas for my art. Art was the only thing I was good at in school, so I at least _tried _to keep up with that skill.

I came to realise that there was nothing particularly interesting around, as usual. I glanced up towards the front door at the end of the hall now and then, to see if dad would walk through. My hands started to trace the bumpy carpet out of boredom, occasionally I picked at it and flicked a bit of carpet away. I was creating waves in the carpet with my hands, which at least was a little interesting. My right hand slipped underneath the bed (the gap was big enough so things could be kept underneath it) as I stroked it backwards.

I jumped a little when my hand touched something. It felt cold and heavy, and it felt like it had multiple buttons on it. I grinned. _Finally, something to play with_, I thought. I crawled excitedly to the other side of the bed and rested my head on the floor, carefully inspecting underneath the bed, trying to see clearly what my discovery was. I slid my hand underneath and tried to grab what I'd felt, stretching and groaning as my hand went further under the bed.

I felt my pointing finger feel something.

"Gotcha!" I giggled, dragging it out with my finger until I had the full thing in my hand.

Once I'd gotten it, I hunched over on my knees and looked eagerly at my discovery. I sighed heavily when I discovered what it was. In my hand lay a small, black gun. I already knew what one of these were, I'd seen dad carry one out of the house before. However, I didn't know what they could do at the time, but I fully knew they weren't toys. I'd seen many boys at schools have plastic ones of these, which wasn't really allowed, but like they took no notice of the rules, I never ever took notice of what games they played with them, because I didn't care about the other kids.

But little did I know the danger I held in my tiny hand.

There was a sudden thud outside the window, making me drop the gun out of surprise, and it now lay before my knees. I saw Ace leap up from where he was laying, his ears pricked up. He was now scurrying up to the door, where the banging continued. I picked up the gun and steadily walked into the hallway. My heart starting beating fast as my mind starting thinking of all the possibilities of what could be outside. I stayed on my toes, preparing myself to fight at any moment. I'd won several fights at school before now, I loved seeing the pathetic girls go sobbing to the teacher about their bruises. I never cared if I had to write lines, I just doodled instead anyway.

I joined the dog at the window by the front door. I jumped a mile again when Ace starting barking crazily, but I managed to keep the gun tightly in my hand this time. I peered out of the window, covering my ears up. It was only workmen outside putting the bins away, giving me a sigh of relief. It didn't calm down the dog though. He continued to rack my brains out with his barking at the commotion outside.

"Oh, shut up," I snapped at him. He didn't. My voice now had an edge to it as I got more and more worked up. "Shut up, Ace!" I yelled at him.

When he didn't obey, my anger started to explode inside me again. I copied what dad does and yanked him backwards by his collar with my free hand, making him yelp.

"I said shut up!" I shouted, as the dog whined at me.

I thought I'd succeeded for a second, but he started barking again, turning his head back round to the window. I grumbled under my breath and started fiddling with the gun in my hand, to try and keep myself distracted from him.

It didn't work. I just wanted the noise to stop. It had only just left and now it was beginning to control my mind once more. I put my hands over my head as the dog continued to bark at the window. I turned my back on him and the room became black, the pounding outside now accompanied by the thuds in my mind.

"Shut up!" I screamed. "Please, just shut up! ACE! Be quiet!" I had a pretty sharp tongue for an eight-year-old, one thing useful I got from mom.

I wheeled myself around to face the dog who seemed to be a track on repeat. I just simply let out a scream, which almost drowned out the sound completely. My hands came off my head, and down to my side, where the gun was still securely in my right hand. My hands were like leaves in the fall as I put them up in front of my crumpled face of anger. I felt a tear running down my cheek.

"SHUT UP!" I screamed again, with a slight whimper to my voice, kicking the dog hard, who fumbled backwards. I clenched my fists as I watched the dog move out of way.

Suddenly, a huge bang erupted the flat and I saw the dog flop down in the middle of the hall.

Everything went quiet.

My mind suddenly went blank. I was panting hard, my eyes still filled with tears.

I stared at the dog, who lay there motionless.

The noise outside had stopped too, so I shakily walked up to the window to see if the workmen had gone. They had, thankfully, so I rushed back to Ace and cautiously sat in front of me, crossed-legged.

I swear I could hear a pin drop at that moment.

I looked again at the gun in my hand for a few long moments. I was still unaware what it was, but it still captivated me. I then looked at Ace, whose eyes were closed and mouth was still gaping open, looking as peaceful as ever. I prodded him with the gun, making him budge slightly. I looked more carefully at Ace, noticing a tiny, black pin on his neck. As I stared at it, wondrously, I felt a cool liquid meet my finger on my free hand.

This made me leap backwards onto my feet. I shook my hand fiercely to get it off and that's when I noticed it. Streaks of crimson red was pouring onto the carpet, and it looked like it was coming from underneath Ace's body. I finally dropped the gun onto the floor.

I very strange feeling gripped me there and then.

I kneeled down, closer and whispered, "Ace?" I tried poking his eyes, but nothing happened. "Ace?" I said again.

I gazed at the Rottweiler blankly. I knew fully well what had happened. He was dead. The red liquid was blood and the black pin was a bullet.

But I didn't know it was a bullet. I was just an innocent eight-year-old, after all.

I stood up and nudged Ace with my foot, which just caused more red to drizzle out. My socks were now covered in blood, as I walked away from the lifeless body. I looked down on it, blankly, still panting slightly.

This is going to sound strange right now, but I didn't feel anything at that moment. I knew I _should _have felt guilty, I _should_ have felt pain, I _should_ have felt terrible…but I didn't. I felt nothing. No emotion whatsoever. I did feel a little confused, though, as I didn't know how Ace was killed. I know it's obvious what happened now. When I clenched my fists out of anger, I accidentally triggered the gun and the dog got shot. Not intentionally, though.

I sensed a surge of relief right then, because he'd finally shut up, and I wouldn't have to deal with him later. I felt this unfamiliar feeling in me, I feeling which I feel more often now, but as an eight-year-old is was very peculiar. But not in a bad way.

At that moment in time, I was still more worried about dad coming home safe. I had a million things to ask him anyway. About the paint, about the toy I'd found (which we all know is obviously a gun) and how Ace had just decided to die.

That's how it felt to me. Ace just died there and then, and in a way I felt like I'd succeeded, because I'd gotten him to be quiet.

This was the very first day I'd felt like this. A sense of achievement, a sense of being in control, despite not knowing why. It felt incredible.

I wondered if dad had felt this way before.

I sat in front of the door again, waiting, leaving the corpse of our dog just there behind me. I knew dad would return because he always did. Although, this was the first time I'd waited in front of the door for him, but the way that I felt at that moment, I just wanted to tell him everything. I sat there until the sun started peeping over the little houses, until eventually it wasn't there at all.


	3. Chapter 2 - Daddy's Gun

*****Hey everyone, so this is chapter two. This marks the Joker's first appearance in the story, although he is not the Joker just yet, he's just simply Jack Napier. But this is the early stages of him becoming the Joker. He's not gone THAT insane yet, but he's getting there. :P He's also an incredibly difficult character to write, it's hard to adapt him from the movies into a story. I originally planned for this chapter to take place straight after the last chapter, but, I decided to do something different, make it more interesting. Hopefully xD**

**Hope you all like, I appreciate feedback!*****

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Daddy's Gun <strong>

I didn't notice it but I fell asleep by the time an hour had slipped by.

I was woken up when I heard the sound of the harsh wind batter my window, making me stir. However, when I blinked my eyes open and glanced down, I noticed that the carpet in the hallway was not underneath me anymore. It was my bed sheets. I felt something soft underneath my head, my pillow. I blinked hard, a puzzled look came across my face. That's when I lay on my back (I couldn't be bothered sitting up) and realised I was in my bedroom, with my lampshade lighting up the room. The sound of the wind quietened a little, but the rain kept on pouring.

Of course I was totally confused, but nevertheless I stretched over to look at my clock on my side table. I got a shock when I read it. 21.37pm.

I still had 23 minutes before bedtime!

I finally sat up, well in fact I leapt up and threw the covers off of me. I switched on the main light and then stopped in my tracks. I heard the TV humming from the sitting room.

I knew it for a fact now. Dad was home!

I quickly slipped on my slippers and dressed myself in my gorgeous pink dressing gown that dad had gotten for me. Like I was in a marathon, I ran out of my bedroom, of course leading me into the hallway.

Then my excitement faded. The events from that afternoon soon came flooding back to me. The red stains from the event before, were still clearly visible on the floor. I stroked them with my hand, it wasn't as cool and soothing as I'd remembered.

I only realised there and then that the dog had disappeared. My eight-year-old mind came to the obvious conclusion that he'd gone to doggy heaven…or then again, doggy hell, as Ace was a dog from hell. That made me giggle slightly under my breath.

Not quiet enough for dad to hear me, though.

"What's so funny, Shaylee?" His distinctive voice called from the sitting room. Even with the door firmly shut, his voice was so crisp and clear, I never failed to hear his every word.

Upon hearing his voice, I dashed into the room with the door swinging behind me. Dad was sat on the torn-apart sofa, holding onto a glass of mom's vodka in his hand and the TV was blaring the other side of the room. His floppy brown hair with a hint of frizz in it, drooped down the side of his head, though not hiding his handsome face. He sat there like he was a king, and as I entered the room, his brown eyes followed me in. Dad smiled when I rushed over to him, my arms outstretched like I was about four again. He didn't seem to mind though. He chuckled as I jumped onto him, hugging him round the neck. He'd only been gone for a few hours, but I'd missed him so much. He was the only person who made me happy. Like his usual self, he roughly threw me onto my back, making me squeal.

"Dad!" I laughed as he pushed me on my back. I kicked his arm and he played around with me like a kid, pretending to be in pain. He laughed along with me. Dad's laugh was hilarious, always making the walls of the flat ring whenever he did.

Once we'd calmed down from hysterics, dad turned down the volume on the TV, and looked back at me as he put his glass to one side. I hadn't moved and was still on my back, looking up proudly at my father.

"How are you, precious?" he asked me, loudly.

"I'm okay," I replied, with a slight yawn.

Dad smirked at me. "Must've got up to a lot today if you're that tired, Shay."

That's when my heart skipped a beat as I remembered what had happened that afternoon. My mind suddenly couldn't connect with my mouth and I couldn't say any words as dad continued to grin at me.

Thank goodness he broke the silence. "You were certainly tired when I came home, honey. There you were, flat out on the floor. I had to put you to bed. What woke you up just now anyway?"

"The wind, dad," I answered, eventually. "The wind was loud of my window."

"Ahh, yes, that damn wind," Dad said. "Been a lot of trouble for me today too."

I sat up, smiling, leaning closer to dad. "What did you do today, dad?" I asked, excitedly. I always loved dad's stories about his criminal ways, which is most unusual for a little girl, mind you, but, as I've said, I didn't care what sort of trouble dad caused, as long as he cared about me. Most nights, these stories consisted of kicking a guy's ass or getting the better of some losers down at the bank.

Unfortunately, tonight wasn't one of those nights.

"Nothing much, nothing much," he replied, simply, making my heart fall. "Just the usual." He paused, and leaned in closer to me, exposing his rotten teeth with his smile. "I'm much more interested in what you've been up to anyway, my darling," he whispered.

Dad grabbed me and pulled me closer to him, startling me a bit. He looked at me with a crafty smile, as he put his long arms around my shoulders. I didn't say anything, but I tensely nuzzled up to him anyway. I gulped, looking down and fiddled with my hands. I wasn't sure where to begin. Like I said before, dad was really unpredictable. I didn't know how he would react. The thought of him being angry with me made my heart race.

I stuttered, still fiddling around with my hands and the end of my dressing gown. Then dad gently lifted my chin up.

"Look at me," he said, still maintaining that smile. Thank goodness. He seemed to be acting calm, although his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Come on, tell your old man what you've been doing, hmm?"

My mind told me to start at the beginning.

"Well, uh…" I mumbled. "So, mom said she was going out…"

I was interrupted by dad's annoyed sigh.

"Your mother…" he said, rolling his eyes. He let out a small laugh, his eyes glancing upwards, still holding my chin with his hand. "Where _is_ your mother, anyway? Stupid woman hasn't given me a call, not left a note, not come home…" He muttered something that I couldn't quite work out and then groaned quietly. "Where did she go, Shay?" he asked.

"She went to find you," I replied, nervously. "Like…this afternoon."

"Oh, how thoughtful of her," Dad laughed. "Well, she didn't succeed, did she, honey?" He continued laughing, making me giggle along with him. "Oh…and she _still_ isn't home yet. Wherever could she be?"

"She'll be home…" I said.

"I don't care," he snorted. I wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. "She's driving me…_insane_ at the moment, Shaylee."

There was a short silence before I tried to continue, "Anyway, she said she was going out to find you…which…which made me so mad because I wanted to come too…"

"Yes…"

"I got mad so I started screaming and...and I started tugging on the door, and, I, I…um, I…I could hear banging and…"

My voice started to crack, so I stopped talking. I wanted to punch myself in the face because crying in front of dad may have led to humiliation.

To my surprise, dad stayed calm for me. "Calm down, calm down…" he shushed me. "Shay, look at me. Look at daddy."

I did so, desperately trying to fight back the tears. The thoughts were flooding back to me and were just repeating in my head. It just messed up my mind big time. I'd seen dad get mad like that a few times. He'd been doing it more often at that time, though. Like I said before, his yelling was getting scarier as the years went by, almost making me frightened of him. I knew because I'd heard him scream at mom, and she'd try to outdo him but she never _ever _won. But I knew I shouldn't be scared of dad, because he never yelled at me like that.

I thought I'd witness his shouting right at that moment because I was being pathetic, but, luckily, he stayed calm.

"Look, look, look…Shay…I _know_ what you've done today," he continued, raising his eyebrows and giving me a little smirk. That made my heart race. "You went into daddy's room, didn't you?"

I said nothing.

"Didn't you?" he repeated.

I nodded timidly, my eyes glancing down at my lap. I didn't dare look at him because I thought I was in trouble.

But I heard dad snigger quietly, making me shoot my head up at him.

"Oh yes, you did, you did…" he continued, holding back the giggles. "And what did you find, hmm?"

"I…I found, uh…"

"You found daddy's gun, didn't you, darling?"

Dad's grin became wider, as he slowly placed one of his hands on my cheek.

"I…I don't know…" I said, truthfully.

"Yes, you did," Dad said. "That little black toy under the bed?" I nodded. "That's the one." He paused as I stared at him, questionably. "You see, Shaylee…daddy uses that, to show people whose boss. People get _really _scared when they see one of those…well, most people. People who use them a lot, like daddy, they get used to it. I remember seeing one for the first time when I was about your age. I saw my dad use it trying to break into our house when mom had locked us inside. When he came in, he fiddled with it, and then threw it to one side. He left it unattended as he made my poor mommy cry. My mind went into wonder with it, I wanted to try and use it, too. My mom was watching me when I picked it up, she held me back but…I was just _curious _about it. Fascinating. Is that how you felt with it, too, honey?"

I nodded again as I continued to listen to dad's story, my eyes fixated on his expression-filled face as he recalled his past.

"So…I tried to use it but it didn't work…my mom snatched it off me and threw it out of the house, making me scream because I _so _wanted to play with it. I screamed very loud, Shaylee…._very _loud…just like you did."

Dad's voice grew more and more dangerous now, becoming slightly gruffer, but that didn't frighten me, it just kept me more absorbed with his story. I didn't know if this story was true, of course, some of his stories seemed a bit unrealistic to me, but I always _liked _to believe they were true.

"My father laughed at me when I yelled and he _hit me_," Dad's voice growled when he said "hit me", and after that he paused for a slight second, before continuing. "Unfortunately for me, it didn't have bullets in it which means it doesn't work, Shay. You understand?"

"Yeah," I answered, quietly.

"Dad had taken them out before he chucked it, you see, but when he saw me yelling, he turned to me, and he said, '_If you don't shut up I'll show you what they're for!_'"

His impression of his father made me burst into laughter. Dad put his finger on my lips, lightly.

"Shh, shh….I'm not finished, Shay," he whispered. I shut up immediately.

"He _frightened_ poor old me, so I didn't talk back to him, but at that moment, my mommy put the thing to his head. _'It's working now'_ she said. Next thing I know, ah, she's on the floor, along with me, and then the next day she's in hospital."

Everything suddenly went silent. Dad looked at me in the eye, his expression was very serious. His hand had still not removed from my cheek.

"Wa-Was she okay?" I asked, pulling my hair back slightly.

"Oh yeah, yeah….yeah she was," Dad replied, taking his time with the words. "The point is, Shay, now you know how they work, right? Do you know?"

"Y-Yeah…" I traced my mind back to dad's story, straining my face thinking. "They don't work unless they have bullets in them."

"That's right. So…what happened today then, hmm? Did the gun have…_bullets _in it today, Shaylee? Because I remember leaving them in there."

I didn't say a word because I was now totally confused. I tried to think back but I never recalled seeing anything like that on the gun.

"Lost for words, honey, hmm?" Dad let out a little laugh, making me jump. "When I walked in, I saw you laying there, _ever _so peacefully, and you had daddy's gun in your hand, and there was the dog, laying there with you. Neither of you stirred. I thought it was strange, you see, because you've _never_…_ever _liked that mean old thing. So why did you just decide to take some nap time with him? I took the gun away, and you know…you what I noticed? When I picked you up and took you to bed, your socks were stained red. How did that happen then, hmm?"

I knew very well dad wasn't stupid. He was very, very clever. In fact, he was _too _clever. I could tell by looking in his eyes that he knew Ace had died. He was just being sneaky and trying to get me to tell him some amazing story. My mind was totally puzzled, so I began stuttering again. I did my best to explain from my point of view.

"Ace…Ace was pouring blood and I stepped in it," I said.

"Spouting blood, was he? And how did that happen?" He then paused, and spoke more softly when he saw my bewildered face. "I won't be angry, you know, Shay. I just want to know what happened. I'm not complaining, am I?"

That made my face light up a little more. I sighed softly out of relief. Dad winked at me.

"I…I'm not sure what happened, dad," I explained. "I found the…gun under your bed and I thought it was cool, but then Ace started barking because of the workmen outside. I just got angry with him…"

"Ahh, there's nothing wrong with getting angry, baby, it's part of life. Carry on."

"I was telling him to shut up, and then…I heard banging in my head and it drove me mad. I still had the gun in my hand, and then…Ace dropped down on the floor and blood started coming out. I don't know why, he just died."

Dad raised his eyebrows at me and then finally removed his hand from my face. He leaned back on the sofa and casually took a sip from his glass. I waited for his reply, but it seemed like forever before he answered. I took a moment to glance around the room and the TV caught my attention. Some sort of action film was on where a car uncontrollably blew up after landing into a building. I found it quite stunning. I got caught up too soon, however, as my adoration was disturbed by dad finally replying.

"Did I ever mention that guns are dangerous?" Dad's sudden answer was.

I stared at him. "Well…they do _sound_ dangerous, dad."

"Was there…a certain _noise_ before you saw Ace drop…down…dead?" Dad's voice sounded so unsympathetic, his gravelly tone was now returning. It did not phase me.

I thought hard. It then struck me like lightning. The loud bang had totally slipped my mind. I smiled at dad, feeling proud of myself for remembering.

"Yeah," I said as the smile drew on my face. "Yeah, there was. There was a bang." I paused for a few moments. My smile disappeared. "But I didn't know why it happened. I thought it came from my head."

Dad sniggered under his breath as he leaned towards me again, like a tiger hunting its prey. It almost looked like hunger was in his eyes. He tickled me under my chin, making me wriggle and punch his hand away. Dad put his arm around me again, still laughing, and I looked up at him, eager for his reply.

"You say that noise came from your head, huh?" he asked.

"I don't know, but that's what it felt like."

"Hmm, you _are _your daddy's daughter, aren't you? You blame your mind for everything. No, honey, the truth is…you fired the gun, you shot the dog and he died. That's what happened. You see, guns put an end to something quickly. They end it with a loud…_bang_!" He smacked his hand loudly on the arm of the sofa to resemble the bang, laughing slightly. "That's why I only use them on worthless people to get them out of the way, honey. You can't wait around on people like that. That's why I use a knife on people who _are_ worth it. But you don't need to know about that. What you need to know is…" Dad paused, "…you killed the dog."

"No I didn't!" I snapped, because I genuinely thought I hadn't. Plus I just hated it when I was accused of something. "How did I-?"

"Ah, ah, ah…calm down," Dad said, giving me a sharp look. "You say you didn't know what the gun was for…well, it's for defence. When people get mad they shoot people to shut them up. Sometimes they die, sometimes they just get badly injured, but…it silences them either way. In your case, you got the best thing. You obviously did it by accident, you went _crazy_ and you accidentally fired the gun and you shot Ace. _That's _how he died."

My heart felt like it stopped. I did nothing except hold my breath and look at dad, who still remained calm. My mind replayed the scene, my brain racked as I tried to figure out if dad was right, because, like I said, his stories are very outlandish. The tape rolled in my mind:

_"__SHUT UP!" I scream, kicking the dog hard, who fumbles backwards. I clench my fists, with the gun in my hand, as I watch the dog move out of way._

_Suddenly, a huge bang erupts the flat and I saw the dog flop down in the middle of the hall._

_Everything went quiet._

Yes! That's it.

I sat there very silently. I wasn't quite sure what to say. The feeling of achievement that I had felt before crept back into me again.

I was so deep in thought I flinched when I felt dad stroke my face. "Do you understand, Shaylee?" he asked, softly.

"In a way…" I replied. "So guns are used to kill people?"

"Kinda," Dad nodded his head. "They're used more to tell people to get back. Stand out of your way."

"Is that what Ace was barking at then?"

"Probably not, he most likely didn't know what it was either. He was just as clueless as you were. But now you know. _You shot him_."

"How do you know, dad?"

"There was no one else in the house, the door was locked and I know you like to explore, Shay, so who else could it have been? You had it in your hand when you were asleep. For a minute there, I thought you _did _know what it was. The way you were holding it, it was almost like you'd done it your _whole _life."

He winked at me as he burst into hysterical laughter.

I said nothing.

"I was close to getting rid of that mangy thing myself, anyway," Dad snickered. "But now…I don't have to! Because my little baby girl has done it instead!"

I managed to display a small smile. The situation was still attempting to sink into my brain. The thought of me actually killing the dog was very bizarre. I'd never been as mad as I'd had been that afternoon. My head had pushed me until I felt I could actually kill someone.

"Dad?" I squeaked.

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"Dad…where is the dog now then?"

"Ahh, that's the best part! You know how much you like campfires?"

I nodded keenly. I did love campfires. Dad kept piles and piles of wood in our little shed in the cramped back garden we had. I don't know why, but he said he got them so I could start a fire whenever I wanted because I loved them so much. Sometimes we sat by the fire together, with him telling me some of his amazing stories. Mom never ever joined us. It was strictly our thing.

I found fire fascinating, the warm heat of it made me relaxed. I found the flames to be beautiful. Whenever there were fireworks exploding on special nights, I stared at them in awe too, but not like most of the other kids stared at them. I wouldn't go '_woah_' and gasp or even hide away like some of the more whiny kids, I'd giggle excitedly and imitate the explosions. I found that to be more beautiful than anything.

I would've given anything to have a campfire night right at that moment. I had no chance though, it was already past 10 'o clock.

As dad finished his last sentence, he took another sip from the glass and sighed heavily as he finished his last gulp. His eyes then darted back to my beaming little face. He pulled me closer, where I nuzzled up like nothing had happened.

"Well, daddy got a brilliant idea," he said, grinning. "You know…how Ace liked to bark a lot? Well…" Dad had to fight back his laughter, which got me started. "I thought, because he barked a lot…I thought he'd like to rot away with the things he loved the most." His lifted his eyebrows and whispered, "Bark."

"What?" I asked, confused, although I was still smiling.

"You know, bark, as in wood. Ace's grave is in the shed. He _was _a horrid dog, right?"

"Yeah!"

"And you know what happens to horrid creatures? They burn. Ace will make a nice addition to our campfires!"

We both burst into hysterical laughter. Dad was so clever! The thought of that dog made me so mad, but now it was gone made an amazing rush through me. And it was then I realised, the sense of achievement I felt was now stronger than it had ever been. I felt really good at that moment. Life was just one big joke, after all, so it was nice to laugh about _something _for a change.

Dad said I could stay up, despite having school the next day, because mom wasn't home. I was _so _glad mom was still out. As far as I was concerned, she could stay out until tomorrow.

"I want you to see this," Dad said as he turned up the TV. "This is a great movie."

"Why?" I asked.

"Just watch, baby. You'll see why." He moved my head so I looked at the television, but I still wriggled up to him. I'd never felt so safe and calm, especially after the odd conversation we just had.

Ten minutes past, and I ended up almost falling asleep again, but I was determined to stay awake and watch the TV. I wanted to see the purpose. It then displayed a scene were the bad guy, dressed in a long, brown coat and looked like a serious badass, was interrogating the good guy, a typical pretty boy whose acting was mediocre at best, in a car park. Although this was meant to be very dramatic scene, dad and I couldn't help laughing. I was laughing more at the one-liners the villain fired at the hero.

Then turned to me and said, "Watch this next part, now, honey." He'd obviously watched this a ridiculous amount of times.

I watched closely and the next shot revealed the bad guy take out a gun (one that looked very similar to dad's) from his pocket at hold it up against the pretty boy's neck. I gasped and my face lit up.

"It's a gun!" I cried, pointing.

"That's right, princess!" Dad said. "I can't believe you haven't seen one on TV or anything. Are you _sure _you'd never seen one before? You hadn't even seen daddy carry one out of house before?"

"I'd seen you hold one, but I didn't know what it was or what it was for, still."

"Ahh, so you thought they were just something I carried around for the hell of it?" Dad laughed.

"Well, I always forgot to ask you about it," I said.

"No need anymore. You found out for yourself today, didn't you?"

We both giggled and continued watching the action on the TV, which I was surprised was still managing to work, it was so old. The two guys beat the hell out of one another, before the prissy guy managed to get the gun and then held it to the bad guy's face.

"Oh no!" I cried.

"Do you even know what's going to happen?" Dad smirked at me. I knew he was trying to test my knowledge.

"He's going to shoot him, right? There's going to be a bang…?"

At that exact moment, the film showed a loud bang coming from the gun, followed by the bad guy yelling in pain and rolling around on the floor. His face was smeared in blood.

I looked at dad, who was beaming at me. My mouth was dropped open.

"See? I told you that's how it works. Fire the gun, _boom,_ the victim's screwed!"

"So I really _did _fire the gun, then?"

"Yes, yes, you did."

"But I didn't realise I did."

"You were angry, Shay. All sorts of things happen when you go crazy. Trust me, I know. You triggered it by accident. It's nothing to worry about."

"So you're actually happy?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course I am. I do all the awesome things around here, so, it was nice to see you have a chance, my girl. I always said I didn't want to be the monster parent _my _dad was, so…I promised when you were born, I'd let you do what you like, you'd learn to defend yourself and be a good girl. And you have. I do all this stuff to show how pathetic people really are these days, and to provide for you of course. Not your mother, though. She can do what she likes. Besides, that dog was driving me nuts, so…you did me a favour anyway!"

He winked at me, before pinning me down on my back. I squealed and kicked my feet in the air, almost hitting dad in the face.

"Hey! You little monkey!" he laughed, as he begin to tickle me.

I rolled around, trying to push him off me, but he carried on. I almost fell off the sofa with a playful scream, but dad caught me by my shoulder and pulled me back into his arms.

Our laughs became quieter as we didn't dare move from where we were.

"I'm so glad you're not angry, daddy," my little voice said, gratefully.

"Why would I be? I can _never _hold a grudge with you, darlin'," Dad replied, stroking my hair. "Like I've said to you before, you're the only thing that keeps me a little bit sane these days."

At that moment, we both heard the door slam hard. I heard mom taking her shoes off and making lots of panicked grunts at the door.

"Shaylee?!" she yelled. "Oh my god!"

"Oh, god, here we go," Dad mumbled.

"Shaylee?" I heard her knocking on my bedroom door. If I was asleep, she would've just woke me up. Silly woman.

"In here," I called to her, as I sat crossed-legged on the sofa, with dad next to me. He took the glass and stood up with a groan, ready to take it back into the kitchen.

Mom burst into the room, her clothes soaking wet, her cheeks bright red and her hair was all over the place. I had to hold myself back from laughing, as did dad. She looked horrified when she saw us both.

"Jack!" she yelled. "What..? Where have you _been_?!"

"Been home for over two hours, woman," he answered.

"And you didn't bother to call? What were you _doing_? I've been searching for hours!"

"If you were really that worried you would have called me, Diana." It was amazing how dad remained so calm, but judging by his face I knew he could explode at any moment.

Mom then fixed her eyes at me, who had my arms folded, not giving a care in the world. I was used to this by now. I'd learnt to control myself and hold myself back from crying. I realised mom wasn't worth crying over.

"Why are you still up, young lady?" she asked.

"Dad said I could," I retorted.

"Jack…!" she began.

"Keep your hair on, Di, we were just watching a movie, weren't we, Shay?"

I nodded. Mom turned and looked at the action movie still playing on screen. She looked at it angrily before she pushed dad out of the way and turned it off with the remote.

"You didn't think to watch a cartoon, no?" she said. "Why are you showing her that crap, Jack?!"

"Why did you allow me to own that crap, then, Di? Hmm?"

"You probably stole that shit anyway!"

Dad burst into laughter. "Aww, you know me too well!"

I couldn't help but laugh at dad's jokes. Mom then glared back at me. "And what's that mess all over the carpet in the hallway?" My heart stopped.

"I spilt a drink before," Dad came to my rescue. Mom looked at him, questionably. "I had some of your wine," he added.

Mom sighed and folded her arms. I couldn't believe she fell for that one. "How thoughtful of you to clean it up," she moaned.

"I know," Dad replied. I giggled again.

Mom then looked at me and ordered, "Shaylee, to bed. Now."

I refused to move.

"Shaylee…" Dad beckoned me with his outstretched arms. "Come on." I reluctantly walked up to him and he hugged me. "Do what your mom says." I was shocked, but, he winked at me, so I knew it was all okay.

"Okay," I said, hugging him back.

"Night, sweetheart," Dad whispered.

"Night, daddy."

I walked straight past mom and shut the door behind me. I entered my room, throwing my dressing gown to the floor and made the room pitch black. I snuggled myself into bed, with my drawing pad on the end, smiling up at me.

I was expecting to fall asleep instantly, but I was very wrong. Mom was so horrible, telling me to go to bed and then she continues to yell at dad, blatantly keeping me awake. She probably thought I couldn't hear her. But I could hear both of them. Every word.

"I've been so worried, Jack," she blabbered on. "You can't keep doing this! Just…just going out and doing whatever things you scumbag things you get up to! Just leaving me here! I tell you every single day of my life and I'm sick of it! I shouldn't have to…"

"And what do you all day, hmm?" I heard dad cut in. "Just sitting here on your ass, drinking…something I get for you, by the way…"

"You steal it, you piece of shit!"

"Stolen or not, all you care about is the next bottle of vodka. Does Shaylee deserve a mother like that?"

My heart smiled because Dad was sticking up for me. He may have been absolutely bonkers, but he always made a good comeback. He was always there with the uncomfortable truth.

"Do you think Shaylee deserves a father who goes out and steals?!" Mom screamed.

"I don't just do _that_, you know!" Dad now had a rougher edge to his voice.

"Whatever! Does she deserve a father who's basically nothing but scum!"

"Nothing but scum? Huh, I least I _care _about that little girl. I would give my _life _for that little girl in there. No matter what she's growing up into, I adore her! But you don't, do you, Diana?"

"Of course I-"

"No! Shut up and let me finish!" Dad dangerous growl was coming back again. I heard mom yelp and I think I heard something bang against the wall. Then I heard a glass smash and mom scream.

"Look at me," I heard dad say, threateningly. Mom just whimpered, pathetically. "No…no you don't care. You don't spend _any _time with her, all you do is yell at her, boss her around. You make her unhappy. She's come crying to me because all she wants is her mom! I've barley seen you guys hug! No wonder she's getting into trouble at school. You're the only example of a woman she's had! Give me a reason to believe you deserve her, I _beg _of you."

There was a long silence. I reckoned it was mom trying to think of a good reply. I was smiling wide, a little tear starting spouting from my eye. I loved dad so much.

"You…you need to look at yourself!" Mom gasped. "You're not exactly…a good role model either, are you, Jack? Stealing, holding people at gunpoint, violence…"

"I'm only violent to people who deserve it," Dad snapped. "Shaylee doesn't deserve that. You on the other hand…"

"I have been nothing but good to you! And all we do is argue about the same things every fucking night!"

"Nothing but good to me?!" Dad's laughter rung throughout the house. "Don't...don't make me laugh, darling!"

"Don't you _darling _me!"

"Oooh, okay, is _bitch _better?!" Dad continued cackling.

"Shut up!" Mom screamed over his laughter. "Shut _up_! I can't deal with this anymore!"

"Can't handle me, love?" Dad sniggered. "Then why don't you leave? Huh? Leave me and Shay alone!"

"Over my dead body! Why would I leave her with a violent criminal of a father?"

"Oooh, violent criminal am I?"

"Yes! Yes you are!"

"Says the alcoholic _bitch_. Did you go to the bar today while searching for me at all today, hmm? Get distracted, did you?"

"Oh, grow up Jack!"

I then heard a huge thump and then I heard mom gasping and coughing.

"You wanna know what happened today, bitch?" Dad asked calmly.

Mom coughed. "What?"

My heart pounded. I'd be so dead if mom found out what had happened today.

"Come here then," Dad said, aggressively.

Mom groaned and I imagined she was struggling to get out dad's grasp. I could hear her struggling and I and even thought I heard her start whimpering.

"So I came in today, from the freezing cold," Dad began his story. "Shaylee had fallen asleep, so I put her to bed…"

"But she-"

"Let me finish!" Dad yelled. "Anyway, long story short, I went off a bit mad. The dog went nuts at me. I got out my little gun and _bang_. Ace got scared and he ran into the garden, so I followed him. He hid in the shed, which for some reason was unlocked, and he wouldn't shut up, so I turned to him and said, _'Why so serious, you stupid mutt?_' If you wanna know what happened you should check the shed. But listen, don't be so mad when you see it. Lighten up for once, Diana."

"What have you done?"

I didn't hear another word after that. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard dad finish his story. He'd lied to get me out of trouble! I wondered if this was all part of a plan. Dad always had some sort of plan. He loved to make mom mad, he told me he did. He said he loved to see her crazy and hated it when she was calm. I don't understand why exactly. I wondered if he didn't want mom to see any of my _really_ bad ways (like what happened that day) until the time was right, and when I did, it would eventually drive her so mad she'd want nothing more to do with me, so then I could only be with dad forever, which was perfect in my books. This is what I thought at the time, and if that was the idea, I was willing to play along in daddy's little game.

I heard mom run out the back door, and then it slammed hard. I heard the jiggling of keys and then the door locked. I was very curious but I didn't dare come out of my room.

About two minutes went by, and I heard nothing but distant yelling. It wasn't loud enough to mess with my head and keep we awake, so I decided to close my eyes.

After about another minute, my door started to creep open very slightly, making me grab my covers to protect myself.

It was only dad, who was now wearing his pyjamas and his frizzy hair was now even messier. I smiled at him when I saw his face peep through the gap.

"Hi, daddy," I whispered.

"You okay, princess?" he asked. I nodded. "Just ignore with what happened just now. Did mom scare you?"

I shook my head vigorously.

"Huh, good girl. I've dealt with your mom anyway. Since she loved that flaming mutt so much, I thought I'd leave her out there with him tonight."

We both giggled quietly. I covered my mouth holding back the laughter.

"Just ignore the bitch howling, honey," Dad said, still giggling. "It's what she does best, after all."

"Okay," I laughed. My voice then cracked a little bit as I felt my heart beat fast. "Thank you, dad."

"What for?" He walked in and kneeled beside my bed.

"For sticking up for me."

"Hey, that's my job, isn't it?"

He then did something he rarely does. Very gently, he kissed my forehead before pulling the covers over me more.

"Pleasant dreams, my number one girl," he said, standing up and leaving.

"Night, night, dad."

He shut the door behind him, and as I nestled into my dreams, the scary thoughts of what happened that day faded away from my mind. They had sunk in now. I felt I was not a little girl anymore. And I loved it.


	4. Chapter 3 - Chase the Morning

*****Chapter three, finally! Again, quite a long chapter (sorry! XD), and this is quite different from the last one, as I introduce a new character, but he'll be very important later on in the story. I wanted to show a bit of Shaylee's personality more and some of her personal sadness as well as some of the things she's inherited from the Joker.**

**Hope you guys like!*****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Chase the Morning<strong>

I was woken up at 8:30 the next morning by dad banging enthusiastically on my door and calling, "Oh, _Shaylee_! Wake up! You have a morning of hell ahead!"

He couldn't have been more right. School.

The night before had been so hectic that I'd forgotten to put my pyjamas on to go to bed. I woke up still in my black jumper and joggers. When I stepped into the hallway, rubbing my eyes and straightening my hair that looked like a lion's mane, even our dim light blinded me. I glanced down at the carpet to see if Ace had still left his mark there. Or rather, if my mark was still left there. It was much fainter now, though I could still see it. Dad had obviously tried to clean it up, but with his mind he's so careless at stuff like that.

I heard dad fidgeting in his room. I plodded in like a zombie, and flopped onto mom and dad's bed. Dad was sorting out his clothes in the wardrobe and didn't even turn around when I slumped on the bed. Curled up in a ball, I just looked at him, still in his night clothes with his hair perfectly in shape, despite it not being brushed.

After a few moments, dad said, "Mornin', sunshine." He still did not turn around to face me, but I didn't mind.

"Morning," I replied, my voice monotone.

"Sounds like someone didn't sleep so much last night, huh?" he chuckled.

"Nah, not with mom yelling all night long."

Dad spluttered into raucous laughter as he continued carefully filing his clothes. It was then I remembered what I found from the day before. I crawled forward and leaned over to see if the face-paint was still present, and it was, still perfectly piled up at the bottom. I curiously looked at dad, my face lighting up when I saw him file through the colourful suit and ties I noticed yesterday.

"Dad?" I spluttered, without thinking.

"Yes?"

I paused for a few moments as I did my silly little habit of fiddling with my clothes again.

"What, Shay?" Dad asked again.

I took a deep breath. "Dad…why…I mean - what's that, under there?"

That's when dad finally whirled around and looked at me with his droopy brown eyes. His face was emotionless, but he kneeled down slowly and lifted up one of the pots of face-paint.

"You mean this?" he asked, a smile suddenly forming on his lips.

"Yeah, what is that? I found some of that yesterday, too."

"Ahh, nosey, aren't we, huh?" I didn't move as dad kneeled down where he was, but unusually he didn't come close to me this time. "Uhh, this is…it's face paint, Shaylee, didn't you read the label?" Dad laughed.

"Yes, I know that," I said, as a cracked a smile and half a giggle. "But what do have that for? You never wear anything on your face, dad."

"No…no I don't, you're right." Dad spoke very carefully now, his diction was spitting at me. He sighed and then stared at me, like he was giving me a command. "If you must know, daddy's going through, ah…I don't know…some sort of change."

That made my heart skip a beat. "What…What do you mean?"

"I don't know, like…I don't know – people change. When you grow up, you'll understand better. I'm getting bigger ideas, I'm on a roll and I feel like I can't stop. But you know what's so frustrating?" He paused as he raised his eyebrows at me. "Whenever I go to Gotham City, I get stopped all the time by those silly little people known as the, ah…cops…and they know everyone in this town, they have records. They can write my name down and _boom_…'Jack Napier, another crime.' That's why I'm getting the idea to wear disguises. If they don't know who I am, they can't catch me out. You see, Shaylee?"

"Yeah," I said, beaming. I admired dad's cleverness very much. He was sneaky, but clever, and I thought that was brilliant. I wondered why he'd never told me all this before, though. He obviously hadn't been carrying this out for long, otherwise I would have noticed.

"Anyway, you'll understand more when you grow up, little girl," he said as he winked at me and rose to his feet again. He turned back around to sort out his clothes. "Right, Shay, you go get yourself some breakfast, get ready and then you can go off for a nice day of hell," Dad laughed.

I groaned and gradually dragged myself off the bed.

Just before I left the room, however, I felt dad touch my shoulder, making me naturally dart my eyes on his.

"Don't tell your mother, about this, though," he whispered.

"Of course I won't," I said, obediently.

"Good girl. She'll just scream at me and tell me….I need to see a doctor, which I don't. I'm _perfectly fine_. Just fine. I'm doing what I need to do." He then leaned in closer to me, grinning. "She's the one who needs help, anyway, doesn't she? Huh? All that drinking." Then his smile faded as he touched my face, lightly. "What she's doing, Shaylee…that stuff she takes, that's _much _worse than your old man nicking something. Well, that's how I see it. Don't ever touch that stuff, it's taken over your mom's head, it's taken over her _life_."

"I know," I said, a little sadly.

There was a slight pause as dad moved away.

"Off you go then, clever clogs," he said, giving me a light nudge.

I did what he said and headed into the kitchen area. Then I carried out what I usually did every morning: made myself some cereal, with milk overflowing the bowl (that's the way I liked it) and then sat neatly in front of the television in the sitting room, and turning on the news. Yes, that's right, the news. I couldn't be doing with cartoons and kids' shows at that time. They all bored me to tears because they're "educational." Don't kids have enough education? If a kids' show wasn't educational, then they were usually so over the top or feature one of those silly boybands every girl at my school talks about. I'd much rather watch the news and witness what everyone's going through in Gotham. It gave me more of an insight to what dad does in that stupid city, especially if there was a story about a bank robbery or a shop burglary or something. From a young age, I was always fascinated by stories like this. My weirdness would make me examine the faces of all these depressed citizens very closely. Sometimes I laughed because they looked so silly, other times I would scoff and sarcastically respond to their desperate cries on the news, like, "We are absolutely _heartbroken_."

Dad was hardly ever on the news, strangely enough. I thought maybe because he did it all the time and people would be so bored of seeing him on the TV. Like I've said, he hardly ever got caught, which proves how dreadful the police in Gotham City actually are. They didn't even bother to come and find him. Dad was very smart, living here in the outskirts of Gotham instead of the actual city itself.

I was gravely disappointed when there was nothing like that on the news that morning. I don't even remember what was on there, but it certainly didn't keep my interest. I gulped down my cereal in seconds flat, after creating waves in it with my spoon and slugged down all the milk like I was a starving child. I _was _starving half the time, because mom hardly ever shopped to get food for us and if she did, she bought some of that horrible alcohol. Dad had to get food for me half the time and I because I was so hungry I never cared if it was stolen or not. I didn't believe he stole _everything_, we get rent money, ever since mom quit her studies and had me.

After I finished, I sat staring at the hallway through the open door for ages, with an empty bowl in front of me. I may have been thinking back to the strange situation the day before again, but I can't remember. Dad then came out of his bedroom, but he wasn't wearing one of his pretty suits, which slightly disappointed me. He looked like his typical self, with his floppy hair in front of his face. He came out like a teacher observing a class searching for trouble, walking very carefully. I saw him put something in his pocket, but I couldn't make out what it was. I hadn't noticed but I was gazing at him, not scared, but sort of lovingly.

That's when he caught me staring. "What's the matter, Shaylee?"

I flinched, quickly answering, "Nothing. Nothing."

"Is there something weird on me, hmm?"

"No. No. You look great."

Dad smiled at me before heading into the bathroom and locking it behind him. That's when I reluctantly got up and took my bowl back into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, I heard a loud thump on the window, making me jump a mile.

"Shaylee!"

Oh damn it. I'd forgotten mom was still out there.

I saw her stood up and leaning on the window, looking absolutely awful. I was disappointed it wasn't raining outside. I frowned at her as she desperately banged on the window.

"Let me in, right now!" she shouted.

Ignoring her, I raised my head to look past her, to notice the shed door wide open. I didn't see our poor dog in there, leaving me slightly disappointed again. I looked back at mom who was crying hysterically, but I just raised my eyebrows at her. She wasn't worth anything.

"Shaylee! Please…" she whimpered. "Let me in. Right NOW!"

"I don't know where the key is," I lied.

"What?"

I didn't want to argue with her, because I knew I'd get nowhere. So with a little grin, I walked away from the window, hearing the sound of mom pounding the window and her muffled screaming behind me. I decided to be cheeky right then, I couldn't help it.

I could still hear her as I stood outside the bathroom door.

"Daddy?" I called, purposely making my voice sound childish.

Dad sighed. "What do you want, Shaylee?"

"Mom…mommy's shouting at me again because I won't get the key to let her in," I replied, trying to sound sweet and innocent.

"Oh, she wants to come inside, does she?" Dad chuckled. "Oh, well…I think she needs, ah, just a…_bit_ more time to reflect on her behaviour." He started laughing. "I'll let her in when I'm finished in here, Shay, you get ready. It's not _your _responsibility after all, is it?"

"Thanks, daddy!" I giggled, as I skipped back into my tiny bedroom.

I got ready for school in two minutes flat, this time choosing my top that was patterned with a large diamond skull, which I got for my birthday that year from dad. I wore my favourite pair of black jeans. I made my way to the sitting room, where mom's stuff was on her dressing table, and I used her brush to make my hair look half decent. I straightened my clothes out, before putting my hair in a thick ponytail, using one of mom's bobbles. She hated me using her stuff, but if she got off her ass and actually got things for me to do it myself she wouldn't need to complain. She couldn't exactly stop me at that point anyway.

I then waited for a few, long moments, staring at myself in the mirror.

"Oh, what is your life Shaylee Jane?" I sighed.

It's a shame that reflections can't reply.

I just heard mom's muffled shouting and dad messing with things in the bathroom. I sighed heavily, before returning to my room and collecting most of my stuff, putting my drawing pad neatly in my backpack first of all along with my best pens. I didn't go anywhere without them. That would be a crime.

Drawing and creating my own worlds were the only things that kept me concentrated. The one, small thing that allowed me to set my mind free from all the banging inside my poor little head. I often doodled when dad was out and mom was drowning in a bottle in the next room. Art was the only lesson I truly loved in school. Funny thing, everyone was suddenly my best friend when we were in an art lesson.

No one was my best friend any other time, though.

But I didn't care. I liked being alone. I only liked being around people who were interested in the same things as me, which was no one. I guess that made me a little sad, but the people who didn't understand me didn't help at all.

I was a very strange young child. I was quiet, but if someone bothered me and pushed my buttons, I would get a surge of anger and then…well, you were in trouble. My mind tells me I have to yell, because I just want everything to shut up. It tells me to fight back. I can't control myself. The only person who can make me calm is dad.

I was what you'd consider to be a "tomboy", but to be honest, I still liked girly things. Well, not _all _girly things, but I liked to glam up now and then, especially when I got older. I hated all those pretty colours that most of the other girls wore, though. I loved to wear black and dark colours. I was so desperate to dye my hair like the older girls did and look ridiculously cool, but mom wouldn't let me. Of course. Dad said he'd let me do it when I was older. Right now my hair is blonde, with a tinge of black and red at the ends. I think it looks super trendy. But alas, as an eight-year-old, I was stuck with mom's boring, light brown hair, which was a pain to tie up because of its thickness.

I didn't like _all _"boyish" things. I _hated_ sports because of my laziness and would never even try in sports class, but I _loved _all the crime-fighting stories on the news. It was _very _uncanny. Boys tend to have gross-out humour, which wasn't my sense of humour _at all_. I shared the same sense of humour as dad, which was…strange. I can't really say, I tended to laugh at things that weren't funny to normal people.

But I wasn't normal, and I knew it. I asked dad if my anger issues was a common thing, and he told me that only special children have that.

I didn't consider myself to be special at all.

School was no big deal to me, apart from Art class. The kids were no big deal to me either. They were all annoying hypocrites, which dad said you find _everywhere_. I didn't care about any of them, because they didn't even give me the time of day. Just because I'm different, I'm considered an outcast. Outcasts are the _best_. So why should I bother with them?

I'll shut up about it now. You get the idea, don't you?

So once I was prepared, I grabbed my backpack and headed into the hall, where dad had still not come out of the bathroom. I glanced into the kitchen, where mom's face had gone from the window, but I still heard her crying riotously.

The clock said 9.15. Damn it!

"_Dad_!" I called. I heard him moving in the bathroom, but he did not answer. "Dad!"

The door unlocked and dad entered the hallway, his shoulders hunched and was looking very carefully to where he stepped. He rubbed his eyes and then leaned on the wall.

"What?" he asked.

"I have to go," I replied, pointing at the clock.

Dad looked slowly up at the clock. "Ahh, yes. Aw, poor you." He came over and ruffled my hair, which I immediately straightened. Dad giggled slightly as he looked over into the kitchen. "God, that woman, honestly. She…never…shuts _up_," he grumbled. He then turned to me, smiling, showing me his unclean teeth. "Go on then, off you go, Shay, while I'll deal with the…commotion outside."

"Will you be in when I come home?" I asked, hoping and praying.

"Ahh, I might be." Dad kneeled down in front of me when he saw my disappointed face. "Look," he whispered, "if you want, I'll be home for when you finish school."

"Really?" I beamed at him.

"If you want."

I suddenly leaped on him without thinking. "Thanks, dad!"

"Hey, hey, hey, watch it…" he said, gently pushing me off him. "It's okay, you know."

"Sorry. Okay, well, I'll see you later."

"Bye, baby, try and have a good day if it's even _possible_!" Dad made his way into the kitchen.

"Oh, I'll try," I laughed, as I walked out the front door and into the grey little street I lived in.

The walk to school takes ten minutes. It's always the longest ten minutes of the day. I would walk past the same boring things I did every morning: the street of the block of flats we lived in and then a shortcut through a small field, which had a million silly stories attached to it. Apparently some ghost lives in the bushes and comes out at night and haunts Lucy Douglas's mom. See what I mean? _This _is how silly the kids were at my school. Believing such nonsense. I did believe, however, that many crazy things happened there. I'm not sure what, but crazy things happen _everywhere_.

My elementary school was called Little Hill Elementary. In Gotham Town, 'Little Hill' was the name for every school, the elementary, middle and high school. The elementary school was on the other side of the grey town, and it was shabby place, with rusty walls and two blocks that made up the entire place. The teachers were okay at best, you got your ones you could push around easily, the ones that went mad over the slightest things, and of course you got the teachers that spoke in that dreary monotone voice.

I arrived five minutes late for the first lesson. Oh, fantastic.

I managed to get to class without any other teachers passing me in the corridor, because I was super sneaky like that. Everyone stared at me when I entered the classroom, once again looking at me in disgust, as if I had interrupted something important. How amusing.

I walked in as if nothing was a big deal, and slumped in my chair, which was back far across the room, hardly near anyone else. I chucked my bag under the table and leaned forward with my arms folded, raising my eyebrows at my teacher, Miss Woodville, but we all called her Psycho Woodville. I longed for the day someone would actually call her that to her face.

"Nice of you to join us, Shaylee," she said. Some of the kids sniggered at me, while the geeks looked at me, impatiently.

I decided to wind her up as I couldn't be doing with her that day.

"Nice to be here, Miss Woodville," I said, purposely making myself sound sarcastic.

She shook her head while some of the popular girls still sneered at me. I just gave them a villainous glare, attempting to be intimidating.

"Kayley, Frankie, quiet please," Psycho Woodville snapped at two of the irritating girls in my class. Woodville then looked back at me. "So why are you late, Shaylee?"

"I had problems this morning, Miss Woodville," I said, sweetly.

"Problems? Problems big enough for you to be late once again to my first lesson?"

"Yes, actually."

That shut her up. It made the whole class shut up. Just how I like it.

Once Psycho Woodville knew she'd lost the argument, she continued the highly tedious English lesson. It wasn't long before the class were given tasks to do, but I could barely focus on anything. I spent most of the lesson with my head on the desk, fiddling with my special pen. Woodville didn't even come over to help me because she was too busy helping the nerdy kids.

I had too much on my mind to concentrate on English work. I couldn't stop thinking about mom and dad. How mom drank every day. She probably only wanted to come in that morning to gulp down the next drink. She was probably doing that right at that moment. I remembered what dad had done the day before, how he stuck up for me, despite being enraged with mom. Oh god. The anger was unbearable. No. No more anger, _please_. My mind traced back to that moment where my horror was unleashed. My heart was racing, and my mouth became dry as the memories overflowed my mind. I remembered my horrific shrieking, the dog barking and that loud bang.

_Bang_.

The memory hit me like a bullet, and I bashed my head hard against the desk.

This finally got _someone's _attention.

"Shaylee, are you alright?" asked Adam, the kid nearest to me.

My head shot up at him. "Yeah, yeah…I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." I moved my head directly away from him when I heard my voice begin to shake. "Yeah."

At that moment, I heard Woodville's teacher voice come from the other side of the room.

"Is there a problem, Shaylee?" she asked.

I hadn't noticed but I'd started crying. I felt a tear stream down and I quickly flicked it away, putting my head in my arms again so no one could see me. I felt so embarrassed when I cried, especially now as the room went quiet.

"Shaylee?" Miss Woodville's voice drew nearer.

"I'm fine," I mumbled into my arms.

I then felt Woodville tower above me. I didn't dare look at her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, touching my elbow. I flinched sharply and let out a loud sniffle, much to my embarrassment. "Would you like to be excused for a few moments?" Woodville's voice the soundest the nicest it had ever been. That's when I finally looked at her, furiously wiping my eyes. I hadn't even got up and moved, but I was breathing heavily. "Shaylee, would you like to go outside to calm yourself down for a moment?" she asked again.

I couldn't believe my luck.

"Yes, Miss Woodville," I said, as I hurriedly stood up, grabbing my bag.

"Okay, I'll be out in a minute."

"No!" I shouted, loudly, startling her. I saw some people in the class jump, others just watched with major interest. I had to stop myself from bringing out the monster, so I took a deep breath as I started walking towards the door. "I mean…I'd rather be one my own," I said as calmly as possible as I walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind me.

I started speed-walking down the colourful corridors. I walked and walked until I found myself running. I ran until I felt my heart pumping out of my chest, my legs were almost aching and my bag was jumping on my back. Getting to the end of the corridor seemed like a lifetime, but when I finally reached there, I fell to my knees and allowed the tears to continue pouring out of my eyes. It sounds strange, but, I just cried. I didn't whimper. I didn't make a sound apart occasionally taking a deep breath, almost like I was meditating.

It was one of those rare times I had to cry to let all the anger and frustration out. I stained my watery eyes as I traced the ceiling. With my head leaning against the crusty wall, I sat just sat there for what seemed like an eternity. I tried to think back to happy memories, cheerful memories of dad spoiling me.

My biggest fear of someone catching me came true when I saw I figure walking down the other corridor which lead to the one I was at the end of. I hastily stood up and then took a closer look at the person walking in towards me. They were too short to be a teacher, but they were taller than me. They weren't walking very quickly, and as they came nearer, I saw that they were looking around the corridor desperately. When I saw it was a boy, I turned my face away to look at the floor, as I slid down the wall again.

He eventually walked down to where I was sitting, shuffling his feet around when he saw me. I still didn't want to look up at him, not while I was in such a state. I didn't recognise him anyway, he certainly didn't look like a boy in one of my classes. To my disappointment, he stopped in his tracks and stood above me. From the corner of my teary eye I could see him staring at me, awkwardly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, I am…" I replied, not looking up.

He shuffled his feet around more, irritatingly tapping his feet. The sound soon grated on me, and I started to get annoyed.

"What do you want?" I snapped, finally looking at him.

To my surprise, he wasn't taken aback. I eyed him up and down, carefully. I was very cautious of new people. Their presence just triggered how I acted towards them, which could sometimes be very ugly indeed if I didn't feel positivity. But then again, when was I ever positive. Not very much.

The boy looked older than me. He had floppy black hair, with unusual green eyes, and his fashion sense was scarily identical to mine, which flickered my interest. His face was long, with bushy eyebrows, but his persona yelled out mischief. I could always get a sense of what someone was like very quickly, immediately telling me how to act around a person. In his hand, he firmly gripped a creased piece of paper.

"I'm trying to find my first class," he explained.

"And you _don't _know where all the classes are by now?"

"This is my first day. I-I'm new here."

No wonder I didn't recognise him. I did a half laugh, folding my arms and I leaning my head against the wall.

"And no one's even bothered to escort you?" I sounded shocked but I knew I shouldn't be. The service at that school was awful.

"No," he replied in his monotone voice. "Mr…uh, what's the principal's name again?"

I suddenly beamed. "Mr. Useless?" I said.

I was so relieved when he started laughing. I laughed along with him, feeling randomly happy all of a sudden.

"You mean Mr. Boyd," I corrected myself, still giggling.

"Yeah him," the boy said. "He told me to go this way, and he gave me a note. See? But it's not helping me."

"Let me see." I stood up and practically snatched the thing off him. I read the note which said something about Mrs. Dresden being his teacher. That's when I knew. She taught the seventh grade, so I knew now that he was older than me. "Ah, you have Mrs. Dresden, you're in the wrong corridor, my friend." I flipped the note back into his face, but he didn't flinch. He actually looked kind of fascinated. I wasn't sure why, maybe it was my weird vocabulary for an eight-year-old.

I wasn't sure how to feel. This was one of the rare times a kid had actually been cool and sort of nice to me.

"Will you show me?" he asked, sort of awkwardly. "I don't know…the way, or anything."

I would never usually in my right mind help another kid out with anything, but I weirdly felt so friendly right then that I decided to try and be helpful for once in my crazy life.

"Sure," I replied, although I couldn't believe I just said it.

"Thank you so much," he said, gratefully.

So I directed him to the right corridor, which was the other side of the school (I had _no _idea how he'd not found his way there). I walk pretty fast, so he had trouble following me. I thought this was brilliant, a chance to get a few minutes out of such a boring class.

It took a while for him to strike up a conversation.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied. I'd completely forgotten I'd broke down crying in class. That horrible feeling had completely vanished from me.

He paused for a moment, so I looked at him, waiting for him to say something. I _hated _starting conversations.

"So, uh…what's this school like, then?" he asked, flipping his hair back. His voice was surprisingly deep for his age.

"I hate it," I said, making an expression of disgust. "What made you come to this dump?"

"Well, me and mom moved here a few weeks ago, so…"

"You came to _Gotham Town_? Why didn't you move to the city?"

"I don't know, but I hate it here already."

"Me too. All the kids here annoy me, it'll take you a while to get used to them. I've begged my mom to move to Gotham Elementary in Gotham City but she won't let me."

"Why?"

"I don't know, because she's awkward."

Before we knew it we were in the right corridor and outside Mrs. Dresden's classroom, the second door on the left.

"Here it is," I said, lifting my hand to the door, giving it a little display.

I looked at him, expecting him to walk in, but instead he looked down at the floor and started shuffling his feet again. My annoyed sigh made him pipe up.

"Do I just go in, then?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," I replied, laughing slightly. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," he cut in, sharply.

"Go on then." I nodded my head towards the door, giving him a slight smirk.

He stood there stiff, until he jumped a mile when the door opened, revealing Mrs. Dresden, looking like the impatient cow she frequently was. He moved further to the side, almost out of her vision.

"_Hi_, Mrs. Dresden," I said, sweetly.

The boy sniggered when he heard me do my silly voice.

"Miss Napier," she screeched in her voice which sounded like nails being scraped on a blackboard. Hearing her ridiculous voice made us both hold back the laughter again. "Why are you out of class? What's with all the noise? You're disturbing my class."

"But Miss Woodville said I could be excused," I replied. I purposely acted silly, I couldn't help it. I fluttered my eyelashes and put my hands behind my back, pretending to act like a well-behaved schoolgirl, something I refused to be.

"Do you have a note?" she asked, sternly.

"No," I said, like it was obvious.

"Then you have no proof you can be out of lesson time."

"But she _did _say that."

"Go back to your lesson please, Miss Napier." She pointed her finger down the corridor like a pistol.

"But, Miss…"

"Back to class!"

"But, Miss, I have the new boy, here, I showed him to his class because he got lost."

I smirked at her, as I pulled him closer by his shirt, so she could see him clearly. He almost fell over because I yanked him so hard. Dresden looked completely flustered. Well, it _was _me who had done a favour, after all. It was something I _never _did.

"Oh, well," she said, putting her hand on her hip. "In that case, you better come in then. Chase Delancey, is it?"

"Yeah," he answered, still struggling not to burst into laughter. I put my hand over my mouth and scrunched up my face as I spluttered giggles into my hand.

"Yes, yes, I've been expecting you to be here," Mrs. Dresden said, as she stepped back to let him in. "Come in."

Chase stepped into the doorway before turning back to me and smiling.

"Thank you…uh…" he began, but his voice trailed off as he looked at me, uncertainly. I knew exactly what he wanted.

"Shaylee," I replied.

"Thanks, Shaylee."

"Okay, back to class with you, Miss Napier," Mrs. Dresden snapped at me.

"Okay, chill out."

"Mind your attitude, young lady!"

"Bye, Mrs. Dresden," I giggled, pleasantly, before quickly walking away again. As soon as I turned the corner, and heard her classroom door shut, I burst out into hysterical laughter. Her voice just cracked me up. My laughter echoed beautifully in the corridors as I headed back to Miss Woodville's room.

I entered the classroom still chuckling to myself. Once again I was stared at, and some of the other girls started giggling too. They weren't laughing _with_ me, but I couldn't care less.

"Calmed down, have you, Shaylee?" Miss Woodville asked, glaring at me to be quiet. I didn't answer her, but instead just replied with a smirk. I was sick of people asking if I was okay. Luckily, she didn't bother me for the rest of the lesson.

I saw Chase again on the lunch break, whilst I was getting lunch in the canteen. He was sitting by himself, on the table in the farthest corner. He wasn't eating, but instead was absorbed in a drawing he was creating in his pad. I held my tray of food, staring at him in wonder. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. That vision of him sitting there, totally immersed in his drawing, still remains with me to this day. I'm grateful I have some beautiful visions of my past lingering in my head.

I was so busy looking at him that I didn't notice I was standing in someone's way. To my horror, it was one of the girls from my class, that cow Kayley.

"Hey, Napier, move it, will ya?!" she yelled, as she pushed me aside. I almost knocked over my food. She wasn't worth replying to, so I just sneered at her as she walked her rude ass away from me.

I couldn't help but sit on Chase's table. No one else was there, and for once in my life I felt kind of intrigued by a kid in school. As I sat down opposite him, he peered up and gave me a little smile, before going back to creating his art. I took a loud crunch from my apple as I leaned over to observe his drawing. He didn't even cover it up. It was an amazing picture of two bats, clawing each other to the death above some skyscrapers, which looked similar to the ones in Gotham City. It certainly outdid any high school student's drawing.

"That's so cool," I exclaimed.

"You like?" he asked, not looking up.

"I think it's awesome!"

"Aw, thanks."

I finished my apple in two minutes flat, before moving onto my Pepsi Cola and chicken sandwich, which I gnawed upon furiously. Crumbs went everywhere, which I swooped off the table.

"Wow, you're hungry," Chase said, as he finished off the bat's ear.

"I always am," I explained. "I barely eat at home."

"Why's that?"

"Well, my mom, she doesn't shop a lot, my dad has to get food for me most of the time, and mostly it's just stuff he likes. He likes seafood and stuff like that."

"It's better than living off fries." That's when he finally looked up at me, his fringe flopping over his right eye.

"Yeah, I guess," I replied, taking my last bite and brushing the crumbs off my hands. "But my mom just buys drinks."

"That's not so bad."

"It is when it's stuff I'm not allowed to drink," I laughed.

"Oh, right," he laughed with me. "You were right about the school, I'm not enjoying it at all. My teacher's voice grates on me."

"Yeah, she's a funny one, Mrs. Dresden. No one enjoys it here. Not even the teachers. They all hate each other. My dad says that even the people who smile every day have a secret hatred for something out there."

"He's right."

"He always right."

Chase smiled at me as he put his pad away back into his rucksack.

"You like drawing then, hmm?" I asked.

"It's my favourite thing in the world," he said, his expression glowing with delight.

"Mine too!" I cried.

"No way!" he said, as he zipped up his bag.

"Yeah! I love drawing, like what you do. I have drawings all over my wall at home. My dad is good at it, too."

"That's so cool," he beamed. "So is that what you want to do when you grow up?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said. "I'm not really good at anything else…well, at least not good at things people _want _me to be good at."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm good at causing trouble, which isn't what people want, right?"

"No."

And for the rest of the lunch break, we both just sat there and talked about stuff I could never talk about to anyone else, except for dad. He told me about his single mom, and how much of an asshole his dad was, after he beat his mom and so they had to move to Gotham Town to get away from him. I didn't talk much about mom and especially dad. He'd think I was lying if I told him about what dad got up to on a daily basis. We showed each other our art, and discovered we like a lot of the same things. He didn't even bring up the fact I was crying that morning when I first saw him, making me feel so relieved. I could almost hear our connection clicking. I'd never felt so happy in school before, and I'd only just met the damn boy.

And it was then I realised, if you want to get noticed in life, you have to make a move first. You can't cry like a baby for attention, you have to take action if you want people to notice you. I'd been in the shadows, hiding from everyone my entire life up to that point, allowing them to come into the shadows and tear the happiness out of me. I'd only ever been able to spoken to dad, and he was so erratic, like I said. Learning from him may not have been the best thing, in fact, it was completely _not _the right thing, but he was the only person that gave me some sort of loving attention. Suddenly, I'd found someone else I could relate to, not just with life, but with hobbies and just _normal _things. It was very strange to me, but I found myself loving it. The pain and anger from the day before and from the morning wouldn't dare come back to me now.

I wanted to punch the wall when the bell rang to go to the final class of the day. Chase looked just as unimpressed.

As we got up to leave, he said, "Well, I didn't think I'd make friends with a _girl_."

I wasn't offended, because the girls there were all stupid. "Hey, we aren't all bad you know!" I chuckled, giving him a little nudge.

"You want my house number? Then we can stay in touch."

"We don't have a phone," I said, sadly, flinging my bag onto my shoulder. "Besides, I'll see you around in school, won't I?"

"Yeah, okay."

"See you around, Chase."

"Yeah, see you around, tiger."

"Tiger?"

"Yeah, I call people 'tiger' if they're cool."

"I'm flattered."

We both shared friendly laughter before departing to our different classes. The lesson I had was Art, which just made it even better. I ignored the fact that the girls from before were whispering and giggling as they made glances at me. The task was to create a painting of an animal.

So I painted a tiger.

I felt proud of myself at the end of that day. I didn't get a single detention!

I ran almost all the way home, because I just knew dad wouldn't break his promise and he'd be there, waiting for me. My bag was heavy on back, so I threw it far across the hallway when I got in, and it landed with a loud thump against the bathroom door. I was panting as I rushed to slip my shoes off and take my ponytail out, allowing my hair to fall free.

"Dad?!" I called, as I chucked my shoes off my feet.

I got no answer, but I heard the TV playing, so I knew he was in the sitting room, much to my pleasure.

"_Dad_?! I'm home!"

I put the bobble around my wrist and slowly opened the sitting room door, where dad was slouching on the sofa, like any typical dad. He looked shattered, he was holding the remote and his eyes were plastered the soap opera on screen. Dad looked like he'd been sweating, his hair greasy and his shoes were carelessly left out on the floor. He even looked like he'd been crying, slightly, but I didn't dare ask him about it. I wasn't stupid.

"I'm home, dad," I said, quietly, peeping through the door.

He shot his eyes in my direction, as he sat up slightly.

"Afternoon, Shaylee baby," he said, plainly.

"What's up, dad?" I said, coming into the room, shutting the door behind me.

"Oh nothing…_nothing _at all. Just having a little chill time. I'm always running around, aren't I? Makes me tired."

"I don't know how you do it, daddy."

"Ahh well, I'm just full of energy, I suppose. You have to have all this energy when you're running away from those moraines."

I giggled under my breath and then we both paused, as dad pulled his hair back slightly and smiled that familiar crafty grin at me.

"So how was your day at the hell hole, then?" he asked me.

I smiled widely as I remembered my very different kind of school day. "Oh, dad, I actually had a good day!"

He stared at me with pure disbelief. "Did you really?"

"Yes!"

He didn't take his eyes off me, staring at me curiously. He then patted the seat of the sofa and beckoned me with his hand.

"Come here, come sit with me." I did so, and I looked up at him with glistening eyes of excitement. "What made your day so…_special_, then?" he asked.

"Well, I met someone today…"

Dad suddenly flinched and held his hands up in front of him.

"Whoa-ho-ho-ho…you _met _someone?" He started laughing. "My darling, you are only eight years old!"

"Eww, dad!" I yelled, as I hit him on the arm. "I didn't even say it was a _boy_! It's not a stupid _boyfriend_! Eww!"

"It is a boy, though, isn't it? You don't hang around with _girls_, which I fully understand, by the way…"

"Well, yeah, it is…"

"Ha! I knew it!"

"Dad!"

"Alright, I'll keep my mouth shut. Tell me, what was so _special_ about him, hmm?"

"He loves art, like me, dad," I said, enthusiastically. Dad just nodded his head at everything I told him. "He's a bit older though, in the seventh grade, he's called Chase. He was actually nice to me. I sat with him at lunch and we spoke the whole time."

"Hmm, I see, I see. Well, isn't that just lovely? Finally, my daughter's talking to somebody other than her old dad!"

We both laughed then, as I jokingly hit him again.

After we'd calmed down, I looked around the room, listening out for mom in the kitchen or something. I didn't hear a sound.

"Where's mom?" I asked dad, who just grinned at the question.

"Ahh, she's done one."

I felt my heart drop. "What? Why?"

"It's nothing to worry about, Shay. I just went a bit…_mad_ at her. But it was her fault. Probably down at the bar at the moment, Shaylee, you know what your mother's like."

"Oh."

"Yeah, you know what I think about _drinkers_."

I then saw the hatred glisten in dad's eyes, making me edge away slightly. I knew he was thinking about his own father. The loathing he had for the man was unbelievable. He said to me the only person he ever loved growing up was his mom, and now she's passed away, I'm the only person he cares about. He doesn't even care about mom, not like he used to.

I gulped. "Dad?"

He looked at me with a blank expression.

"Dad…did you argue?"

"Only because I left her outside last night she went _crazy _at me. I thought I was doing her a favour, but she's _so _self-absorbed she just went off crazy and left me alone. I didn't even _do _anything today, Shaylee."

"What?" I was shocked.

"Yeah, she's made me so mad I didn't even bother going out today. Daddy's had…a bit of a shit day. I haven't liked it…_at all_. But listen, Shay, tomorrow I'll go and get you some, uh, _money_, okay? Then you can spend it on getting yourself something you want."

"Really?"

Dad then managed to smile, as he gently touched my cheek, making my heart smile. "Yeah…anything for you."

I leaped on him and hugged him tight. I thought he was going to push me away, but to my surprise he actually held me close. I thought I heard him sniffle softly. As I hugged him, I noticed a tinge of that white face paint on the side of his neck, making me very curious, but again, judging on his mood, I didn't dare ask him about it.

"Thanks, dad," I squeaked.

"Not a problem, princess."

I _told_ you dad cared about me. He may seem like he doesn't care about anything, but he _did _care about me. He _did _have some sort of love in his heart. Well, at least that time. I know I keep saying this, and you may not believe me, but, he _was _a good dad to me. He is still _is_, I swear... but as time went by he got angrier and his crimes became more frequent as I got older. I still was only eight at the time. It was frequent then, but not like it is now. What he does now is beyond extreme, but that information is for me to know, and you do find out.


	5. Chapter 4 - The Lash Out

*****Chapter four, hope you like! Not as long as the last, but it doesn't need to be! :P Next chapter will see Shaylee grow up a bit more, I promise! I just had to add this part in, as I felt it was important. You'll hopefully see why :P Didn't expect to update this early, but with some of the feedback I got, I just wanted to get it up asap! I just couldn't stop writing! **

**NOTE: This chapter contains violence and cruel behaviour. This may be upsetting to some readers.*****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - The Lash Out <strong>

Mom returned home later that afternoon. I was in my room when she came home, busy scribbling away in pad, too busy concentrating to realise she'd arrived. Dad was in the sitting room, most of the time, though occasionally I heard him venture into his own room, to do what I had no clue. I only knew mom came home because I heard rattling in the kitchen.

I was working hard making a sequel to Chase's picture he'd shown me that lunchtime. I outlined a darkened Gotham City, with a starlit sky and towering skyscrapers dotted around, complete with busy traffic surrounding it. I placed one vampire bat high at the top of the paper, while the other was lifeless at the bottom. I drew one of his wings ripped to shreds, while the other wing was being happily gnawed upon by the victorious bat, as he flew above his enemy triumphantly, holding onto the wing in his claws, like it was a possession.

I didn't need to use much of my special pens to draw it, only the black and grey ones. It took me two and half hours to make it perfect, and during that whole time, mom didn't come in once to see me since she came home. As always. Dad at least came to check upon me at one point. He came in with an unlit cigarette hanging from teeth.

Dad wasn't a chain smoker. He just smoked them sometimes, which I know sounds weird but, he mostly only smoked one when he was stressed. Mom said he used to smoke it a lot more when he was younger, when they first met and before they moved in together. He only gave it up when mom got pregnant with me. Apparently mom forced him to give it up, because she didn't want to affect me growing up. I guess that's one useful thing she's done.

The fact he came in with it already in his mouth made me realise that it was best to leave him be for the majority of that night. His behaviour could become very ugly indeed if I talked to dad with a stressed mind.

"You okay, Shay?" he asked, when he came in. His hands were buried in his pockets.

I paused in horror when I saw the cigarette in his mouth. "Y-Yeah…" I stuttered.

He lifted his head and looked curiously at my drawing, which at that point was about half done. When he viewed my picture, a small smirk formed on his lips, with the cigarette still loose in between his yellow-tinged teeth.

"Whatcha got there, honey?" he questioned, still peering at the drawing.

"Erm…just a little drawing I'm working on, daddy," I said, smiling at him.

"Hmm...It's very good. Very good indeed. You got a big imagination in that little _mind_, haven't ya?"

"Thanks, dad."

Dad then paused for a few moments, as he darted his eyes around my room, anxiously. I wasn't sure what to say to him, so I remained quiet. I lifted my pen to continue, which is when dad coughed loudly, to get my attention.

"Shay," he said.

I put my pen down instantly and looked his way.

"Your mom's home," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I know," I replied.

Dad quickly glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice as he faced me again. "She's practically locked herself in the kitchen. If I go in there, and out the back for a cigarette, she's going to go sick at me. She hasn't _bothered _to talk to me since she's come home."

"She hasn't spoken to me, either."

I could see the pity in dad's eyes as he groaned and removed the cigarette, placing it in his pocket. I stood up and tensely walked in front of him, which he didn't notice at first because his hands were over his eyes. I could just feel the pain inside of him. It was all around the room, and it was almost coming into me. I knew he couldn't go through mom yelling at him, not after that morning and the horrific night before. I very slowly lifted my hand and touched his elbow, making him take his arms away from his face.

"Dad?" I whispered. He stared at me, as he cautiously took my own hand and squeezed it slightly. He looked like he was about to start crying, but he never ever did. I was very rare dad behaved like this. He must have felt pretty awful in order to come to me an emotional wreck. He wasn't a very emotional person _at all_, but when he did display it, it definitely struck a chord with me.

"Dad, do you want me to talk to her, then?" I asked, quietly.

"No!" He clutched my hand even more. "No, I'm not letting her shout at you, too!"

"Dad, why would she shout at me? I've done nothing."

"But you know what she's like. Shaylee, she's drunk. I just_ know _she is. I can hear her in there getting it out. I'm not letting you around her whilst she's like that!"

"Daddy, please calm down…"

"I am calm, Shaylee, I just don't want her shouting. I had enough last night _and _this morning."

I racked my brains to think of a solution. I wasn't going to argue with him, not when he was in such a state. He was almost clinging onto me by now, I was certainly not strong enough to hold him up.

"Okay…dad? Dad? Why don't you have it at the front of the flat? You know, by the front door. You won't have to go through the kitchen then."

"Won't she hear me go out the door?"

"Not if you're quiet." I desperately tried to lighten his mood. "Besides, I thought you were sneaky, weren't you?"

I was so relieved when a big grin appeared on dad's face. He made me smile brightly, too, as he delicately prodded my face.

"Yeah, you're right," he chuckled. "Yeah, I _am _aren't I?" I winked as I giggled back at him. "Alright then, I'll go out the front. If your mother hears me just say it was the wind, okay?"

"Is mom that stupid?"

"Well, after having some of that stuff, she'll be even _more _stupid than usual."

I spluttered into unstoppable giggles.

"Shh! Shaylee!" Dad laughed. "Okay, go back to your drawing, then."

I scrambled back onto my bed, hastily grabbing my pens, ready to continue. I looked up at dad, who turned to exit my bedroom, getting the cigarette out of his pocket, followed by a lighter in the other.

I felt my heart pump out of my chest.

"Daddy?"

He stopped in his tracks, but he didn't turn around to face me.

"You will be okay, won't you?"

I heard him laugh softly. "Of course, baby. I'll be just fine. I just need some quiet time. If I get noise tonight I may get a bit, ah, _crazy_."

And with that, he went out, shutting the door neatly behind him. I listened out closely for him heading out the front door, or mom causing a commotion, but I didn't hear either. Thank goodness. I didn't hear dad come back in either, so he must've been very sneaky indeed.

That's when I spent another hour or so finishing my picture. I didn't hear another sound for that time, apart from the occasional stir in the kitchen or the hallway.

After I'd completed my piece of art, I held it up in front of me, proudly admiring what I'd created. I thought if one day Chase _ever _came round to visit, I could show it to him, and maybe then we'd just create a whole chunk of these pictures, almost creating a little comic book of our own. We'd make millions! It made my brain swirl with ideas just thinking about it.

Just like many pictures I'd done before, I decided to put it up on my wall. Once I'd finished a picture, I always cut the outside so the border was a certain shape. So it was only fair I did the same to this one, too. I frantically rummaged around in my draws to find some scissors, but I had no luck.

It was then I remembered. We always kept some scissors in the kitchen draw.

Damn it.

There was no way in the world I'd let mom get in the way of finishing my drawing, so I casually made my way out of my room and into the hallway, where I could hear the TV humming from the sitting room. The bathroom door was wide open, but mom and dad's bedroom door was firmly shut. It was peculiar, usually it was the other way round.

I entered the kitchen, where I saw mom in her scruffy clothes, sitting at the kitchen table, clinging onto her precious bottle of vodka with a glass close next to her. She just sat there. I'm surprised she wasn't passed out. She looked almost startled when I came in, but I just sarcastically smiled at her, as I rushed past her to the draw at the back of the kitchen. She followed me with her head but her eyes were half-closed.

I opened the drawer to find the scissors. So far so good. No screeching yet.

"What you doing, Shaylee?" Mom asked, her voice dreadfully slurred.

_Oh, brilliant, here she goes_, I thought.

"Just getting the scissors, mommy," I replied, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

"Ahh…what for?"

"I need them to cut something out. It's for my drawing."

Mom didn't reply. I searched the two draws until I eventually found our black scissors with a dangerously sharp end. I gasped with delight when I saw it, so I grasped it and slammed the draw shut.

I was just about to make my way out of the room, when I heard, "Shaylee, wait, honey." Mom took another swig of the drink as I turned around to face her. I looked at her, impatiently.

"What?" I said.

"Is it for homework?" Mom slurred.

"What?"

"Your _drawing_. Is it homework?"

"No, it's just something I've done, mom."

"_Oh_, I see. Do you _have_ homework you could be getting on with?"

Miss Woodville had actually set us some English homework that day, but I had a week to do that, so I wasn't going to bother.

"No, mom," I lied.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Mom then got off her chair and stumbled to her feet. I backed away, nervously, until I felt my back hit the wall. I had to be careful when mom had had a lot to drink.

"Hey, hey, why are you moving away, honey?" Mom said, as she attempted to kneel down in front of me. Mom's drunken presence made me nervous. I never acted this way when dad was around me, it was only with mom. Especially when she was drunk.

I didn't answer her, I instead just stared at her, to make her feel uncomfortable. I was unsuccessful as mom unsteadily kneeled in front of me, twitching her head. Luckily, she wasn't right up in my face, she was a few feet in front of me.

"Are you _sure _you don't have homework?" she asked again.

"_I don't_!" I yelled, without thinking.

I could feel the frustration coming back to me again. I knew because I couldn't keep my hands still. With my free hand I tugged upon my t-shirt.

"Did you get to school on time, Shaylee?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"What about getting home?"

"Yes! Why do you think I wouldn't be home on time?!"

"You forgot your key this morning."

"No I never!"

"You told_ me _you didn't know where it was."

My mouth dropped open. "Not _that_ key, mom! I knew where _my_ key was, I didn't know where the _back door_ key was!"

Mom gritted her teeth as I saw her blue eyes sparkle with irritation. "It was right…there…on _that _table." She pointed, almost falling over. "How could you _not _know where it was, Shaylee?"

"I was busy getting ready!"

Mom then stood up angrily, towering above me. "Too busy to not let your own mother out from the garden after she just spent the whole night out there in the _freezing cold_!"

That thought made me start to giggle.

"Don't you _dare _laugh, young lady!"

"Don't shout at me, mom! Please!"

"I'm your mother! If I have to shout at you, I will!"

I couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth. This is what it was like all the time. I come in, meaning no harm, and she turns the conversation on its head, making an excuse to take her anger out on me. Exactly as I mentioned before, she bombarded me with some horrific names. Not just names, some of the things she said to me when she was drunk just ripped my heart out of my chest. She was supposed to be my mother. Even though he was considered 'scum', dad would never in his right mind say _anything_ like that to me. I don't think mom knew what the term 'parent' meant.

My heart stopped as I darted my head towards the kitchen door, to my left. It was still slightly open. I thought about dad for a second. I looked back at mom, who staring at me in the most disturbing way. I then remembered what I'd actually been in there to do in the first place.

"Mom, can I go back to my room?" I asked, trying to calm us both down. "I want to…"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Not until you explain to me why you left me out there!"

"It wasn't _me_! Dad left you out there last night!"

"Yes, he did, the horrible thug…"

I gasped in horror as I stomped forward, away from the wall. "No he's _NOT_!" I screamed.

"Shaylee, your father is not the hero you think he is, you know!"

"He actually _bothers_! He comes to make sure I'm okay! To find out what I've been up to! _You_ don't! Why do I always have to come to _you _to start a conversation?! You barely start one with me! I'm not stupid, you know, mom!"

I started to see red. I gripped the scissors tightly in my hand, just like I did when I had dad's gun in my hand just the day before. My throat was starting to ache and my voice became embarrassingly shaky.

After my rant, mom then took a deep sigh as she walked backwards towards the table again. She reached over to the bottle, which just made by blood boil even more.

That was what set it off. My head started to reel, making me scrunch my eyes shut. It overtook my mind once again.

"Shaylee, listen to me…" Mom said, a little calmer now.

"No! I don't want to!"

"Shaylee, you think I don't love you?"

At that moment, the door was bashed open by dad, who stormed in and pushed over one of the chairs, making us both silent.

"What the _fuck _is going on?!" he shouted at mom, who coward backwards into the table.

I decided to cut in before she said any more disgusting things. "She called me a liar!" I yelled.

"I didn't, Shaylee…"

"Yes you _did_!"

My head couldn't stand it anymore. My shrill scream racked the walls of the kitchen, as I threw the scissors far across the room. It glided through the kitchen, just missing mom and dad and landing near the back door. I threw it so hard, I was lucky I didn't smash the glass on the door. I wouldn't have cared if I did anyway.

Mom slammed down her bottle and I swear a look of murder came upon her face.

"SHAYLEE JANE NAPIER!" she screamed, stomping towards me.

I was prepared to hit her if she came close to me, but luckily dad held her back, roughly. Dad looked absolutely livid as he pushed her back into the table before she could say anything more to me.

"Do _not _touch her, you heartless bitch!" Dad almost sounded demonic when he screamed at her. He had his back facing me, so I couldn't see what mom's face was like.

I'd never witnessed dad like that before. I'd heard him yell and hit mom at night, but I'd never actually seen him be abusive up until that moment. I just knew from his mood before that he would lash out if he was pushed to it. The shock of dad acting like that made me gasp quietly. I felt my heart racing. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I leaned back on the wall again, waiting nervously for what dad was going to do next.

For the first time, I felt scared in dad's presence.

Dad released mom after he heard me gasp. He looked so worried when he whirled around to face me, who shuffled backwards. I thought he was going to yell, but instead he calmly walked over to me and kneeled down to my level. I hadn't even realised I'd been crying until dad wiped away a tear from my cheek.

"Alright, calm down, baby," he said, soothingly. I found it amazing how he could change from being angry to being so calm in just a few seconds.

I gasped as I just allowed myself to cry again, like I'd done that morning. These two days were turning into such an emotional rollercoaster. Dad shushed me and stroked my cheek as I tried to get the banging out of my head. He rested his head against mine, which helped me calm down.

"Okay, okay, Shaylee…what's happened here?" Dad asked, calmly, as he continued to wipe my tears.

I skidded a breath in as I felt another tear fall. Mom had taken a seat again by now, and she just sat there with her head resting against her hands.

"I…I…"

"Shhh," Dad whispered. "It's okay, I'll get this sorted. You go to your room, sweetheart."

"But…but dad!"

"Shaylee…trust me. Please. Go." He looked at me sternly.

"O-Okay…" I whimpered.

"Good girl."

Dad stoop up to face mom again, who hadn't even glanced back up at him.

I frustratingly wiped my tears off my face as I took deep breaths to get the demons out of my brain. Just before I left the room, I looked up at a hatred-filled dad.

"Dad?" My voice was shaking.

"Go to your room, darlin'. Go to calm down." Dad didn't look cross, which made me feel relaxed a little bit.

I raised a shaky finger towards the scissors, still laying against the back door.

"Can I have those?" I asked, nervously.

Dad nodded. I ran towards the door and picked them up, before running back towards the door and as I passed mom, I gave her a look of disgust through my watery eyes.

I shut the door behind me and rushed back into my bedroom. I slid down my bedroom door, making it close. I skilfully threw the scissors onto my bed, ready to cut my picture.

I sat there very quietly. My heart was still beating fast. I buried my head in my knees, an attempt to get the last little demons out of my head. I closed my eyes and tried to take deep breaths.

I was starting to feel absolute hate for my own mom. I felt no love. The tiny bit of love I had for her slowly faded away after what she'd just done.

I thought I could make it all stop.

That was until I heard mom and dad start arguing.

"What the _fuck _were you doing, Diana?!" Dad yelled.

"_I _didn't do _anything_, Jack. She started yelling at me."

Oh my god!

"And you think the best way to handle that is to yell back?!"

"Ahhh…."

"_Shut up_!" Dad groaned loudly and I heard a loud smash erupt the flat.

"What are you _doing_?!" Mom cried.

"Ah-ha! You see?! You get fucking worried when your precious vodka is smashed. What if Shaylee got badly hurt, hmm? Would you give a shit then? _Look at me when I'm talking to you_!"

I heard a hard slap and dad groan in pain, making my heart stop.

"Ooh, getting all feisty on me, huh?" He laughed manically.

"Don't you _fucking _touch me!"

Mom screamed and I my ears hurt when I heard a thump on the kitchen wall. I scrunched up my face as I continued to bury my face in my knees. It was pitch black.

"Look at me, Diana," Dad threatened. "_Look at me_! You piece of shit! What were you about to do?! You were going to lash out at our own little girl!"

"I…I was _not_!"

"Don't give me that! _That_…_that _stuff is making you act this way! And you say you're not addicted! You're full of shit!"

"_I'm addicted_?! What are you, Jack? What are you?!"

"I'm a fucking father, Diana! A proper parent! I'm a father _and _a mother to Shaylee!"

"You-"

"Don't you _dare _interrupt me!"

There were a few moments of silence as I heard mom gasp. I guessed dad head her by her throat. Dad's voice was that familiar dangerous tone, that I knew mom had no chance against him.

"Listen to me. I heard _every word_. You think I wasn't going to hear you? All she came in there for was to get some scissors, and you…you start talking about homework and shit? You didn't ask her how her day went. What she was drawing? You started talking about something _I _did to you that was nothing to do with her. Aren't you forgetting something here? Remember that day last year when Shaylee was ill? And _I _had to practically force you to take her to a doctor…."

"Because you couldn't take her yourself!"

"Ah-ah-ah…_I'm talking_. That's when it was all found out. She'd got my schizophrenia. Do you realise how serious that is? She was only seven for fuck's sake! We knew from her school that she has _clear _anger issues. So what do you do? You constantly yell at her, boss her around. How many times to I have to give you a parenting lecture? You _need _to support her and guide her through all the shit she has in her mind. You don't know some of the crap she goes through every day because you don't bother with her. I know though, because she talks to me. You studied psychology, right? You should know. _I know_. You think this is helping your dear fiancé? No. _No_! You're driving me mad!"

"Which is _why _you need to see a doctor, you bastard!"

"Why do you always make things about me? This isn't about me. This is about our daughter!"

"Get the _fuck_ off me, Jack!"

Dad chuckled. "You're unbelievable. I don't know…why…I bother...with you."

"You were bothered enough to put a ring on my finger!"

"Ha! Yes, you see, I'm starting to regret that now! Do you still regret, Shaylee, huh?"

"Don't…don't you even _try _bringing that up!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. What? The fact you didn't even want her in the first place? Why? Because you were scared she'd get some of my problems? Well, she has, Diana, and she's going through it, you need to help her! Not yell at her!"

"I didn't want her, did I?"

"You have a short memory, don't you, bitch? That shit you drink does that, you know."

"I'm _not _an alcoholic!"

Dad laughed hysterically, along with the sound of mom yelping and the chair falling on the floor. I heard mom scream in pain.

"Told you that stuff is dangerous! Mind the glass, Di!" Dad laughed.

I couldn't help but giggle to myself at that. I know that's cruel, but at that moment I couldn't care less about mom.

So much was revealed to me that night, some things I didn't even know about. I had no idea about mom wanting to abort me at birth. That explains her attitude towards me, and why dad cared so much. He wanted me, and she was selfish. Thinking about it now, it doesn't really surprise me, but as an eight-year-old, I felt like a dagger had just been plunged into me. That made me start crying again.

I was close to my mom at one point, you know. When I was about three or four, I had a good relationship with mom. Although I don't remember much, I do remember spending time some together. I remember when I was three and she played hide and seek with me. We'd waste so many hours chasing each other round the house, while dad helped me to find her. It was only when she started drinking did things turn sour between me and her. She started drinking because dad went off the rails. He broke the law once, and that was it. She was never the same again. Dad told me she started drinking when I was a baby, because she had postnatal depression. Mom never talked to me about it, but according to dad, she got worse when he started stealing, but it was bad when I was just a year old.

Then there was the reveal about schizophrenia. I was totally confused, at eight years old, I had no idea what that was. Obviously I know now, but I didn't know what to think that night. To me, it just sounded like a big long word that meant nothing. I always knew I had conditions, but I didn't know why and what they did to me. The schizophrenia comes from dad, which is much worse at this moment in time. It's practically taken over his mind, now, it hadn't so much then. I shouldn't talk about it, really, but you'll understand later. It truly is an evil thing to the mind. For me to inherit it in the first place is very rare, but to be diagnosed at seven, let me tell you, I was never going to be normal. They somehow found it in me _so young_, even though I didn't truly feel it until the day the monster was released when I found the gun.

It wasn't _my _fault I had anger issues. That comes from my behavioural disorder. You may have heard of it, it's called attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD for short. It's not severe, but it is rarer in girls than in boys. Dad said he had it when he was young, too, so it could be a genetic thing. The thing is, I was diagnosed with it when I was about six and a half, so I was quite young. Remember how I said before that in school I got distracted easily and could never concentrate on my work? Yeah, that's because of my ADHD. The fact I always want attention is because of it too, and I _really _hate it. I want it to go away, but in other ways, I don't. It keeps me occupied, I suppose, but when you're a little girl with ADHD, you get _so _annoyed with it. It occurs more when I'm in school, not at home. Mom knows all about it, so when she found out that dad has it, she was scared I would have it, too. Although, I believe it's more down to parenting than genetics.

But what can I do? I'm just a girl, after all, I just have a few little problems. I was never going to have a typical life. Not with a dad who's slowly becoming out of his mind but somehow still manages to always be right.

After I heard mom and dad quieten down slightly, I lifted my head up to look at the clock on my side table, blinded by the lamp. It was still only 8:45. I sniffed as I listened out for the argument to continue. I didn't hear any words, just a few crashes with the table and some harsh slaps. I don't who they were coming from, but I presumed they were from dad, hitting mom. That was normal for me to hear every night.

After a few moments, I heard dad say, quite casually, "I'm not letting you _anywhere_ near me tonight. I'll sleep on the sofa."

I can't really remember what happened after that, except for the flat becoming deadly silent. I heard mom messing in the kitchen, then going into her room, slamming the door hard.

The time was 9.30. I had gotten into my pyjamas and I managed to calm myself down completely. The noises had left me alone. I'd lied in my bed to get them away. I had finally cut my border around my picture and put it safely away in my wardrobe, as I didn't dare go into the kitchen for cello tape.

It was like walking into a tomb when I came into the hallway at 9:35. Mom snoring was the first thing I heard, which I found unbelievable how she could sleep with saying goodnight or feeding me at all that night. The TV in the sitting room was still humming, so I knew dad wasn't asleep yet. I very nervously opened the door and peered through to see dad laying peacefully in his pyjamas on the ripped sofa. He was staring at the ceiling, blankly, and I noticed an ashtray on the arm of the sofa, with one cigarette in it.

"Daddy?" I whispered, as I shut the door, quietly.

He didn't answer.

"Dad? Dad, I…I'm going to bed."

He then turned his head and smiled at me, but he did not move from his position.

"I'm not surprised, after all that tonight," he said. "What a load of noise, eh?"

"Yeah." I felt incredibly guilty. "Dad?"

"Yes, princess?"

"Dad…I'm sorry."

He immediately beckoned me over with outstretched arms, as he sat up, alert. "Sorry?" he said, surprised. "Come here, honey." I ran over and squeezed him tightly, as he squeezed me back. "Whatcha sorry for, huh?"

I hated the fact I felt the tears coming again so held my breath as I spoke. "I…I knew you didn't want to get angry tonight because you were stressed and I got angry so I made you get angry with mom, and…and…I _knew _I shouldn't have lashed out but I did and you were stressed out, anyway and I just made you worse, daddy, and…and I'm sorry…."

"Aw, baby, shh," Dad giggled as he stroked my hair. "Calm down. Look, I _know _you get crazy sometimes. Look what happened with Ace, huh? Sometimes, we get angry, Shaylee. Daddy gets angry all the time because your mother annoys the hell out of me. You don't understand how many times I have yelled at your mom about you, because you deserve better than her. And you know what? One day she's gonna regret taking up that horrible stuff and leaving you out. Next thing we know she'll be getting in deep with the sharks…but you've always got me, haven't ya? Hey?"

"Yeah," I sniffled.

"Don't feel guilty, Shaylee. I _know _you can't help your anger…don't worry about it. You're special, like I told you. I'm not surprised you got angry, to be honest."

"But what if I get worse?"

"Then you get worse. I'm sorry, Shaylee, but…I'm not taking you to a doctor. They're all...pathetic...trust me." He paused. "My job is protect you. I tell ya, one day, you'll be out there, and you'll understand how dark the world is. I see it every day, and I try and show them how pathetic they really are, right?"

"Right."

I just stayed cuddled in his arms for a few moments. It was so nice to have this moment, as it only happened when dad got really emotional and didn't act like a badass like he usually did.

I looked up at him, to find him smirking back down at me.

"Shaylee?" he said.

"Yes, dad?"

His normal self suddenly returned. "How would you like….to have a campfire tomorrow night?"

I perked up and beamed at my father. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "We haven't had one in a while. Besides, poor old Ace needs a funeral, right?"

I burst out laughing, as did dad. I didn't care if we woke mom up or not. I didn't care about anything at that moment. I just felt so safe and loved with my crazy father. He could change my mood in a flash. He could change my tears of pain to tears of happiness in seconds. He has a lot of life in him. I like that.


	6. Chapter 5 - The Right to Remain Silent

*****Chapter five, at last! So this is like another "two scenes in one chapter" again, a bit like Chapter 3. I think this is longest chapter yet, but there was so much I had to cover, because of Shaylee growing up in this part. Also, the second part of this chapter had to cover a lot of things, with the introduction of two (hopefully) familiar Batman characters. I hope you like, I REALLY don't want to dissappoint! :P**

**NOTE: Again, this chapter contains violence and some gruesome moments.*****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - The Right to Remain Silent<strong>

My life was never the same after those two days of chaotic events. From that night onwards, I decided to allow myself to cry more. I'd once been too scared to cry, or too embarrassed because I regarded crying as displaying weakness, but because of dad's words with me that night, I realised, crying is okay. Sometimes it's needed. In my case, crying slowly killed the demons in my head when I became angry. I'd always looked up to dad, and he never cried. I'd seen him be close, but I'd never witnessed one single tear in his eye.

Dad kept his promise the next day. His usual eccentric personality returned and he stole some money for me. $150 to be exact. It was waiting for me on my bed when I came home from school. Dad had piled it there, neatly, with an untidy note reading, '_Shay, take this and spend it on a night's worth of food since your mother didn't bother last night. We'll have it round the campfire tonight. Dad x_'.

Yes!

He wasn't home at that point, for some reason and mom was asleep in the sitting room. I didn't want to bother her, for obvious reasons.

I ventured all by myself to the little shops, five minutes away from our flat. They weren't that far away from school. I loaded the entire $150 in my pockets _and _my backpack.

I went overboard with the food, but I just couldn't help myself. All the unhealthy stuff I could find in that shop, I bought it. I was grinning from ear to ear the entire time I was in the shop, having the time of my life collecting and piling it up in my little arms. One little kid stared at me in awe as I lifted my items onto the counter, where a lady with a short bob and glasses looked absolutely overwhelmed.

"Goodness me, young lady!" she said, laughing. "That's a lot to carry, isn't it?"

"I'll be fine," I replied, cheerfully. "I've got plenty of room in my school bag."

"How nice of you to do some shopping for your mom," she said, as she began to scan my items.

"Uhh, no…it's for my dad, actually," I said, nodding my head at her. I leaned forward on the counter, wanting to look her right in the eyes. I loved acting all strange and sneaky with strangers who seemed to be cowards.

"Oh, I see." She had no idea.

"We're going to have a campfire tonight, so that's why I got all this food."

I smiled widely at her, as she froze and widened her eyes at me. I had to giggle to reassure her I wasn't crazy.

"Oh, right," she replied, nervously, before continuing scanning. "What's that for then?"

"You see, my dad, he's got all these amazing stories, and he likes to tell me them when we sit around the campfire, and I'm _starving_, which is why I'm getting all this food."

"Oh, that's lovely. What kind of stories are these?"

I laughed. "Oh, you – you don't want to know!"

She looked nervous as I continued laughing loudly. Everyone was staring at me, but I loved it. The woman didn't say anything for a few moments, as she finished my last few things and started putting them into bags.

"That's $47.93, please," she said.

"What?" I didn't hear because I was still in hysterics.

"$47.93," she repeated, sounding annoyed.

Surprisingly cheap. I rummaged through my pockets and slammed down a $50 note on the counter, which she quickly took and gave me my change. I took my three bags of shopping and was almost dragged to the floor when I felt the weight. Before leaving, I smirked at the lady on the counter.

"Thank you," I giggled, before skipping out of the shop.

Many eyes followed me as I happily bounced out of the shop. What was wrong with people? Couldn't a little girl just shop in peace without getting stared at?

When I came out of the shop, I managed to squeeze one of the bags into my backpack, leaving me to carry the other two in both of my hands. I was so glad our flat was just around the corner, as my arms felt like they were about to fall off as I carried them back. Despite that, I managed to keep my excited grin on my lips.

I returned home to discover mom had awoken and was in the kitchen, which is the first place I went to, to store the food away. Her forehead was creased with worry when I came in, and she breathed a big sigh of relief, as she closed the door of the refrigerator.

"Oh Shaylee!" she cried. "Where have you _been_? Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine."

See? Mom _does _show a little concern if she doesn't touch that damn drink.

"Are you not hurt or…?" she wailed.

"Mom, I'm okay, I promise." I groaned, as placed the two bags of shopping on the table. Mom gasped in shock when she saw it.

"What's all this?" she asked, putting her bottle on the side and coming over to me. Thank goodness.

"It's food, mom," I said, unzipping my backpack to get the third bag of shopping. "I went and bought some food from the little shops."

"How could you afford all of this?!"

"Dad gave me the money for it."

Mom paused. "Oh. Oh, of course he did."

Once I'd placed the last bag on there, I turned around to walk back to my bedroom, but mom's worried tone stopped me in my tracks.

"Shaylee, honey…"

I turned around to face mom, who was taking a seat.

"What?" I asked, impatiently.

"Honey….is everything alright?"

"With what?"

"With you. I mean, do you feel okay?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…"

That's when I noticed it. I looked closer at mom's face, where there lay an ugly red mark beside her left eye. I walked forward, my eyes squinted as I tried to observe it more. Mom didn't move.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing.

"What's what?"

"That."

Mom carefully touched her face, tracing her mark before quickly removing her hand away from her face.

"Oh, it's nothing."

I just looked at her for a few, long moments. I knew it was a mark that dad had given her, and it was big. It wasn't like a little mark I'd gotten when I'd fallen over in school or anything, it looked painful, and it stood out, crimson red on her pale face. I didn't really feel sorry for her, but…it was nice to just talk to her normally, for once. Because she surprisingly wasn't drunk.

It took me a while to speak. "Is it from last night, mommy?"

"What?"

"That mark, did you get it last night?"

Mom looked totally puzzled. "Shaylee, what…what do you mean?"

I sighed. "Do you even remember?"

Mom didn't answer. She just sat there, delicately touching her mark as she just stared at me in confusion.

"Never mind," I sighed. "I'm going to my room."

I walked out of the kitchen, taking my school bag with me. I left the door open purposely, just so I could hear if mom would immediately open the bottle. She did exactly that.

When I entered my bedroom, I went straight back to doodling. Chase and I had been hanging out again, and we got this awesome idea to exchange pictures, for inspiration. That day, Chase had shown me another picture he'd drawn, this time a colourful drawing of a zombie apocalypse. He'd masterfully drawn the zombies all different shapes and sizes, as they rose up from each of their graves and invaded a fallen Gotham City. He'd shown me how to draw an amazing zombie, so I instantly got down to practicing. He would exchange that drawing first, and I decided I'd give my "Bat Victory" (yeah that's what I called it) picture to him the next day. Chase was _so _good at it, I swear he was beyond his years with his talent. I was a horrible artist compared to Chase, but nevertheless, I was determined to show dad what I'd done when he returned home.

Dad returned home just after it went dark, and by that time I had finished my drawing. I heard the door slam hard and then he practically zoomed past my room and immediately locked himself the bathroom. I wasn't quick enough to catch him, but I had a conversation with him outside the door. Mom was in the sitting room, watching some depressing romance movie, which was blasting through the flat. I could barely hear myself speak, but that didn't take away my major enthusiasm.

"Hi, daddy!" I called, from outside the door. I was clutching onto my sketch in my hand.

"Alright, darlin'?!," he replied, cheerfully. That means he'd had a successful day.

"Dad, I bought some food for us, like you said!"

"Ahh, good _girl_! Whatcha get?"

"All sorts of stuff! Uhh…chocolate for me!"

"Well, it wouldn't be a campfire night without _that_, now would it?"

I chuckled. "Dad, what are you _doing _in there? I want to show you something!"

"Give me five minutes, Shay. Go get ready. Make sure your mom don't disturb us tonight."

"She's in there watching something anyway. Probably asleep."

"_Nice_. Go on then, getcha self prepared!"

I did exactly as he said. I went out into the garden and neatly folded out the garden chairs. I didn't open the shed, I dreaded the fact I would witness Ace flopping out of there. Hey, I may be slightly unfeminine, but I have restrictions. There's no way I'd drag out a dog's corpse out of a shed! Come on. That was dad's job.

We got going with our little father-daughter bonding time, the most insane father-daughter bonding time in history, about 45 minutes later. I was ecstatic when dad decided to wear one of his purple suits, he told me he'd been wearing it all day, and he was too lazy to get dressed again. It wasn't that warm outside anyway. He'd actually brushed his hair that day, so his frizz had almost all disappeared, but that didn't take his handsomeness away. Dad was very pleased when he came into the kitchen and discovered all of my shopping. We both laughed as he ripped the bags to shreds, letting the food fall free and said the plastic bag ruins could also go on the fire. It took him half an hour to actually _build _our fire, though. He dragged out the latest pile of wood from the shed (I don't know how he got it or where he'd got it from, but who cares?), as well as the corpse of our own deceased pet, which looked disgusting. I shuddered a bit when he hauled Ace's rotten body out and tossed him on the pile.

"Ahh, I think it's the best one yet, honey," he said to me with his hands on his hips, proudly looking down on his pile of wood.

"Yeah. Doesn't Ace just look so sleepy?" I giggled.

Dad burst out laughing. "Yeah, yeah…he sure does!" He took several breaths before continuing. "Now. We got everything ready, my darling?"

"I think so," I replied, nodding.

"Hmmm…you gotcha food ready?"

"Yep," I grinned as I held up my chocolate bar.

Dad grinned deviously at me, as he strolled over to the back door. I took a nibble from my bar as I curiously watched him tug on the door handle. The door stayed firmly shut, making me grin just as deviously as dad did.

Something I noticed about us both: we have the same smile. I looked identical to dad when I smiled, you could definitely tell I was his daughter. That would be a problem in years to come.

"Yep," Dad said, as he walked back to me, rubbing his hands together. "Door's locked. No shouting from Diana to_night_. No. _No_….no trouble from her. Okay then, let's start this, shall we?"

He glanced at me and I eagerly nodded back at him, as I continued to munch on my chocolate bar. Dad revealed some matchsticks from his jacket pocket, and then a matchstick lighter from inside his jacket, looking like he had planned ahead. He held them in front of him, and observed them for a few moments, grinning that gruesome smile again.

"Shaylee?" he said.

"Yeah?" I answered, with my mouth full.

"Would you like to see a magic trick?"

I smiled brightly, as I shoved the chocolate down my throat and began to laugh. "Yes please!"

Dad laughed hysterically, as he lit the first matchstick in one go. I watched him in awe, as he held it on front of his face, grinning insanely at the flame flicking bright, before chucking it onto the wood pile. It immediately burst into flames, almost like it _was _magic. I gasped in amazement as dad repeated the trick with another matchstick, lighting up even more of the fire. He continued before the fire was in full bloom, the burning flames warming up my cold skin.

Dad smugly whirled round to me, after he'd completed the 'trick' and did a silly little bow, before saying "Ta-da!"

I gave him a little applause. We both started laughing hysterically again, our laughter gorgeously echoing in the garden. We didn't care if we woke the neighbours. I chucked my chocolate bar wrapper into the fire, making dad laugh even harder. He ran towards me, grabbed me hard around my belly, sweeping me off my feet and spinning me in circles. I squealed loudly, kicking my legs in the air as dad continued laughing.

"And in…you…go!" Dad yelled as he faced me towards the fire, still holding me tightly. I screamed playfully as he pretended to chuck me in, before releasing me into my chair, and throwing a packet of Haribos at my face. I swear we were laughing for a good ten minutes about that, dad was almost crying from laughter.

As mad as it was, this was the most fun I'd had in a _long time_. The past two days had been like hell, apart from the odd moment, but now it felt like me and dad were back to our typical selves again. I loved it. I'd recently felt like I could never have fun again, but dad _always _knew how to spark the typical Shaylee.

Our night continued like we normally did around the campfire. I asked dad what he'd been up to in the city, which lead to him telling me an endless story about how that morning, he'd broken into a rich guy's house with his friends. It wasn't Bruce Wayne's house (he was that stupid billionaire), the guy wasn't _that _rich, but he still had a load of money. One of dad's friends threatened the man, while dad and the others stole that $150 he'd gotten for me. They'd managed to escape just before the police arrived, but the guy was apparently so scared he couldn't even tell them what had happened! He'd heard that from the guy who'd threatened him, so they got away with that one. Serves him right. What rich guy needs $150 when he has a shit load more that he can spend whenever he wants?

Dad went on a rant about how ridiculous it was that people like him don't give a stuff about people like us and only about themselves, when it's actually us who _needs _the money. Mom didn't have a job, because she gave it up, and dad hadn't had a job since he was 21. Yeah, we get rent money, but, dad was ill, although at the time I didn't know he needed medication, and mom needed help with her drinking. Okay, maybe she didn't want the help, but dad was on the edge of threatening to take me away if she didn't get help. He told me that's why he picks on people like that guy, people with a lot of money, because that's all they care about. He said they need to take a closer look at what Gotham's really like. The frustration in his eyes when he told this story was bright, it glowed even brighter than the burning fire.

Dad was incredibly fascinating to me as a little girl, to the average little girl or even little boy he would be absolutely terrifying. When he was telling me his stories, he would barely take his eyes off me. It was like he was unable to use gestures. The story came from his facial expressions, mostly expressed in his eyes. I could just tell by directly looking in them what his emotions were, they twinkled whenever he spoke about his past, particularly his father. He had a captivating face, I just couldn't take my eyes off him. Like I mentioned before, he would take his time when he was talking, he wanted me to hear and remember every single word and he purposely emphasised and prolonged the important parts, sometimes glancing upwards at that invisible person talking to him. As I've said, I was very smart for a kid, I knew exactly what he was doing. He was informing me, preparing me, showering me with information for my future.

I sat there listening to him, constantly nibbling on snacks, for what seemed like a short time, but we were there until the sky went pitch black and the flames were touching the sky. Once dad had finished his tales, I looked at the fire in wonder. The fire was so beautiful, it made feel butterflies. Dad starting humming to himself, as he took some sweets himself and starting chewing repetitively.

After a few minutes, he said to me, "Fascinated, are we, Shay?"

"Hmm?"

"Getting a bit lost in the fire, there, I see."

"Oh – oh, yeah. It's so pretty."

Dad chuckled as he chewed on another sweet. "So, my girl, what was it you wanted to show me then, huh?"

I beamed as I excitedly got out my neatly folded drawing out of my jean pocket, which I'd been keeping safe.

"Look at this, dad," I said, handing it over to him. "I drew it after I went shopping."

Dad quietly chuckled to himself as he observed my picture.

"Very well done, Shaylee," he smirked. "What's this for, then?"

"Chase taught me how to draw it."

"Ahh, Chase, is it?" He handed it back to me, and I scrunched it back into my pocket. I nodded back at dad, who out his hands up at the fire, before rubbing them together. He looked just as besotted as me.

"Shame there aren't any fireworks tonight, dad," I said.

"It is, isn't it?" Dad replied. "Remind me to prepare one of these nights for 4th July. _Then _we can have a special night!"

We spent another half an hour or so deep in conversation whilst stuffing ourselves with the junk food. It was like heaven for me. I talked to dad about Chase more, describing his appearance and his similarities to me. Now with Chase at the school, I could at least have decent days at Little Hill Elementary. Dad knew I hated it so much, he'd argued about it with mom several times, especially when mom blabbered on about my bad school reports and frequent detentions. She just didn't understand my ADHD.

After our night was over, dad put out the fire using a large bucket and filling it up with water from the sink in the kitchen. My heart dropped when it had to end, it just wasn't fair. I wish the night had never finished, but my bed time was 10:00pm, and mom would go sick if I stayed up late. I assisted dad with putting the logs away, leaving dad to bury the remains of Ace's body in the garden. I felt queasy at the thought, so instead I binned all of the wrapping paper and stored the unused food in the fridge.

Whilst dad was busy burying our beloved dog, I snuck into the sitting room, to find mom passed out on the sofa, with TV now turned off. Her mouth was gaping open and she was snoring disturbingly loud. Mom had been drooling all over her hideous flowery top, and in her hand she gripped onto her bottle of alcohol, with three others empty at the side. The pain inside me flashed as I just watched her sleeping. It was incredibly sad, really.

I left her and got into my favourite pyjamas, decorated with bat patterns. I stuffed my picture into my school bag ready to show Chase the next day. I heard dad stirring in the kitchen, with the back door locking. It wasn't long before he came in to wish me goodnight.

"Great night, honey. Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, as I nestled into bed.

"Of course I did," I replied, beaming brightly at him. I paused before nervously continuing. "Dad…"

"Hmm?"

"Mom's already asleep, in the sitting room…"

"Great! Looks like I get my own bed back tonight then," he laughed, winking at me.

I didn't laugh with him. "But dad, she's got the drink with her."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw it in her hand…"

"Ahh, no surprises there…"

"Will she ever stop?"

Dad glanced up at me, sighing heavily. "Maybe, someday. I hope. If I can…_knock _the sense into her."

And he really did try to. I swear.

As you know, mom and dad argued almost every night. It was like it was a duty, so it was nice to sleep peacefully that night. The arguments were mostly about the same thing, so it became normal to me. As the years rolled by, mom became even more abusive than dad was, but of course dad always overpowered mom. Mom's beatings on dad messed him up even more, I could just tell, the next day he would hardly speak.

It didn't change for the next two years or so. Although, after those three days of chaos, I did feel an odd change inside of me. My anger got worse, my tears became more common and yelling at mom became natural. I'd never been as mad as I'd had been that night when she nearly hit me. That night has scarred me for life.

I continued to hang out with Chase in school, every day discussing art and our personal lives. I told him about how I idolised my father and how I had a rocky relationship with my mom. It was the opposite for him, as I mentioned before, but he always asked what my dad was like, but I simply refused to talk about dad's life and his 'problems.' I was petrified Chase would think we were both crazy if I told him the bizarre things we got up to. I always bashed on about my mom though, and what the latest argument had been about. People made fun of me in school for hanging out with a boy, especially Chase who everyone thought was a nerd. We couldn't care less, though. We were all we had in school.

School life continued as normal. I excelled in art, but nothing else. I didn't _want _to excel in anything else. I always shouted at the teachers, because they just didn't understand. Chase was the only one who understood some of the crap I went through day in and day out. I spent more time in detention than in actual lessons, for goodness sake. Now and then I beat up Kayley Lyons because she was an ignorant bitch, and of course I got the blame every time, getting a pointless detention and a letter sent home to top things all off. You can imagine how it went down at home when my parents found out I'd been getting into fights. But it wasn't my _fault_.

Life at home wasn't _always _bad. When dad was in his best moods, we still had our campfire evenings and he always spoke to me about new things. I learnt about dad's knives, one day. As I grew older, dad was using those more as well. Although I never saw it in its glorious action, I often saw dad carry one out of the house with him more. Sometimes I noticed during the day, it would be on the table in the kitchen, and in the morning it would be on the floor, after mom and dad had had a brain-racking argument.

On my 9th birthday, I didn't receive much. Dad had got me a fresh, new drawing pad and a collection different pens, which I adored and spent all day playing with (my birthday was on a Saturday, thankfully). Dad insisted they weren't stolen. Mom only gave me $10. Yeah, that's it. Chase got me a skull-and-cross bones hat, which I jokingly made dad wear. Mom had the nerve to try and start _another _little disagreement just before I went to bed, but dad said he wouldn't dare argue on my birthday.

I loved him so much.

So that was my life for the next two or so years, basically. Nothing changed particularly.

Okay, I lie.

Apart from my anger issues slowly becoming more serious, my behavioural problems did too. The demons were killing my mind more and more each year. They told me to fight back. I nearly hit a teacher once, and one night I almost punched mom, only to be once again rescued by dad. I can't explain it properly. There's this noise humming disturbingly loud in my brain it takes control of my actions. You don't think I want to hit and be violent, do you? No. No I don't. But it can't be helped, and dad insists that I don't see a doctor in Gotham City.

But everything in my life changed in just one night.

It was summer vacation, I was ten years old by this time. It was really late at night, but the night seemed unusually cold and bleak for the summer. I'd recently been feeling lost, as Chase was moving to Gotham High in the next school year, as he was now eleven years old. I was dreading the fact I had to survive a whole school year without him. He hadn't even been round to my flat yet to visit, because mom _or _dad would never allow it.

Dad had not returned home since early that morning. Mom was stressed out of her mind, I hadn't spoken to her all day, as I wasn't in the mood. I wasn't worried, because I knew dad _always _came home.

It was about 9:45 when she finally came into my room. I was laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, conjuring up ideas in my mind for a painting. I ignored her when she walked in. Instead I pointed up at the ceiling, making shapes with my finger in the air, almost like it was a piece of paper. I didn't care that mom was crying. I knew by now that the alcohol did that.

"Shaylee…" she whimpered. I refused to talk to her. "Shaylee, there's been, uhh…Shay, listen to me!"

I slammed my arm down on my bed and looked at her intolerantly. "What?!" I sat up and stopped when I saw mom crying. "Why are you crying?"

"There's been a…the police…are down at the jewellery store…you know, the ones by the little shops…"

"So?"

"It's surrounded by the police…"

"And your point is?"

Mom sighed and she suddenly punched my door hard. "What if your _father _is there?"

"Woah, mom…"

"Shaylee! Don't argue with me!"

"I wasn't even starting! For God's sake…"

"I'm just terrified, okay!"

"About what? The fact that dad might be at the scene of crime? It's nothing new, is it, mom?"

"Of course not, but…he hasn't come home since this morning! Maybe it's because he's been caught there tonight…I _know _what he's like…"

"Why do you even care all of a sudden? You don't even care about dad."

"You think I don't care about your father?"

"I care more than _you _do, mom!"

"You're the one on your ass in here not moving! If you cared you'd be wondering where he was by now, you'd have come asking me! You think your father is so wonderful that he, uhh, _never _gets caught!"

"No! He never gets caught!"

"Well I think…tonight could be different!"

"If you're _that _worried, then why don't you ring his cell phone?"

"He never answers!"

At that moment, I jumped up from my bed and stormed out of my room, pushing mom out of the way. I furiously zipped up my coat and started putting my sneakers on.

"What are you _doing_?!" Mom shouted at me.

"I'm going…to see for myself! To show you there's nothing to worry about!"

"_No_!" Mom grabbed me arm, making me squirm frantically.

"Mom, get _off me_!"

"You are _not _going out there by yourself! Not this late!"

"Yes I am!" I managed to escape from her grasp. I dashed over to the door, but before I could even open it, mom yanked me back by my arm again, firmly holding me backwards. "_Mom_!"

"It's too dangerous!"

"_Mom_! You're hurting me!"

"I need to go there myself."

"You just said it was _dangerous_! Do you have no logic? If he _is _there and in trouble, I'm the one who's going to save him!"

"Are you mad, Shaylee?!"

"NO! I'm _not_ mad!"

"I just think it's better if _I _go…"

"What and try and start and argument with him?!" Once again I freed myself from mom's grasp and I immediately grabbed the door handle.

"Don't you dare, Shaylee…"

I slammed the door in her face and I was off, running down the street. Running and running and running. I sprinted until I reached the end of the road and I peered around the corner, to see the apparent commotion.

In my mind, I still didn't believe that dad was going to be there. The police were down on these streets all the time, so what were the possibilities that dad was going to be there this particular night? I thought it was all in mom's mind. She has those moments all the time, but dad _always _came home eventually.

I glanced over my shoulder to see if mom was following me. Unfortunately, she was. For some reason, she was wearing large high-heeled shoes, which was totally ridiculous, especially being drunk as well. She was never going to catch me up.

I panicked when I saw her shadow, and I quickly ran around the corner. I rushed through the street. I was now beginning to get tired. Once I got to the end, I leaned on the wall, panting hard, before peering around the wall, to where the actual line of shops were.

My heart stopped when I realised mom was right. There were two police cars outside the jewellery store, which was now closed. The door was wide open, but I could see nobody inside because of the terrible dim light in the shop. As I nervously walked my aching legs towards it, I noticed there was one cop guarding the door, as the sirens on the police car was still flashing brightly, almost blinding my 10-year-old eyes. No one was gathered around to witness the commotion, but I did notice some people were nosily staring out of their house windows. I listened closely, hearing a muffled conversation inside, but too unclear to see if it was dad's voice.

The cop looked startled when he saw me walk up towards the store. I curiously gazed into the window, to see if I could witness anything interesting, while he watched me, making sure I wouldn't cause any trouble. As if I would.

"Excuse me, young lady," the cop said, backing me off a bit. "We have to ask you to stay back."

"I'm sorry," I huffed. "I'm here to find my dad."

He started at me in wonder, and at that moment I heard the sound of mom's high heels bashing the pavement behind me. I wheeled around in horror and she stumbled towards me, nearly collapsing onto me in her awful drunken state. She violently grabbed my shoulder, making me jerk backwards.

"Shaylee, what did I tell you!" she yelled.

"We're here to see if dad's here! I don't even know why you're so worried!" I retorted.

"Hey, hey, lady, stand back, please," the cop ordered, glaring at mom.

"Officer! What happened here?!" Mom started crying hysterically all of a sudden, making me roll my eyes. She gripped my shoulder so I couldn't escape.

"There's been a robbery here, miss," he explained. "We're investigating it now."

"Has there been any signs of fiancé? He hasn't come home and, and….my daughter…"

Wait, what? Mom was concerned about me?

"Miss, please, stand back, we are dealing with this." The cop tried to remain calm but mom was far from it. She started screaming like maniac.

"No! Please! He's ill…he can't control himself! Please, officer…"

"There have only been four people spotted at the scene, miss."

"Who?!"

"I can't be sure yet, like I said, we are investigating."

"When did all this happen?"

"We were informed an hour ago by a pedestrian that he believed this store was being shoplifted. He couldn't be sure how many were involved."

"Please, please…." Mom started tugging on his shirt.

"Calm down…"

"NO! I need to know if he's here!"

"If you stand back, we can inform you as soon as we can."

"That's not good enough!"

I groaned loudly, making them both shut their mouths.

"Can't you just let her in, officer?" I asked, sharply.

"Certainly not, young lady. There are dangerous criminals in there…"

"But that could be my dad! How can you keep a child from seeing their father?!"

I wriggled my way from mom's grasp again and attempted to go into the store, but the cop stood in my way. I could feel my heart racing so suddenly. I started to worry, my mind flooding with the thought that maybe dad _was _actually in there. My ten year old self thought he must've been holding be back because dad was in there and he didn't want me to see him.

"Could you keep your child, away, please?!" the cop ordered at mom, who dragged me backwards.

"Shaylee, come on, honey…" I could hear mom's voice shaking.

"No! Let go of me!"

Mom pulled me back out of the way, before shoving her face right into mine.

"Listen to me, they're not going to let us in until they've investigated further…I'm _so _pissed off because I don't know…we'll just have to wait…"

"But mom, if dad _was _there, wouldn't they have arrested him by now? And what's with fat face guarding the door? They should have more than one!"

"They would if there was a bigger crowd."

"I don't care! Dad would've come out by now…"

Suddenly, a deafening scream exploded in the store. It wasn't a scream of fright, it was a scream of anger. I recognised it anywhere. It was followed by a huge uproar in the shop. I don't know why, but I clung onto mom as I continued to hear the frightening noise coming from inside. The cop outside immediately went in to help, making me run towards the door.

That scream, it sounded like dad.

"_Shaylee_!" Mom shrieked, as she grabbed my arm, once again stopping me in my tracks.

I looked up at her, my eyes filling up with tears. Mom's eyes were red, she was still struggling to stand upright.

"You were right," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"What?"

"He's in there."

Mom's eyes widened as he she quickly glanced up towards the shop. Her voice shook a little. I'd never seen such emotion from her before, and she wasn't even sober.

"Shaylee," she said, not looking at me. "Stay here. Do not move. _Promise me_."

"Mom…"

"Stay here."

That wasn't a command. That was pleading.

"Okay," I whimpered.

Mom shot off, tripping into the shop's entrance.

Stay there, Shaylee. Just stay.

No. Please. No more seeing red.

I continued to hear the yells and screams coming from inside the shop. I didn't hear any conversations, just noise.

Stay, Shaylee. Do not move.

My mind rewound back to the angry scream as I stepped backwards, away from the racket. Was that dad? It certainly sounded like it. I'd heard it before. Although, it couldn't have been. That scream sounded much more demonic and controlling, dad's seemed calmer, even though it most certainly was _not _calm.

Please let it not be dad in there.

Do not move, Shaylee. _Do as your mom says_.

Fuck you brain! You can't follow _any _rules, can you?!

I nervously sauntered towards the store door, dragging my feet along the pavement. It was a warm night, but I started to shiver. I hugged myself as I stood outside the door.

_Come on, Shaylee, you normally have the guts. Walk in, find out for yourself. You're acting pathetic._

Shut up. No, mom said to stay put.

I listened closely. The first clear thing I heard was:

"Drop the gun now!"

"I will _shoot_!"

That's when my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. That _was _dad. He was being 'interrogated' the police. Damn it, mom was right all along. He _had _been caught this time.

My ribcage felt like it could burst because my heart was beating so fast. The tears rolled down my cheeks, as I put my fingers to my mouth. I was trying to hold it back, they could _not _hear me.

"Drop the gun, let her go, we can handle this…" one of the cops said, calmly.

"_No_! She's the reason I'm doing this!" Dad shouted.

That familiar scraping gasp of mom's flooded my ears next.

"Take them, we'll deal with this one."

At that moment, two cops pushed out two handcuffed men out of the shop's entrance, forcing them into one of the police cars. I jumped a little as they walked past me.

Calm down, Shaylee, not one of them is dad.

One of them drove the car off with the sirens blaring, as the other went back in. However, just before he stepped in he stared at me. He had a long moustache with glasses, and a chock of brown hair. We didn't say anything to one another, but with my eyes I expressed how desperate I was for them to let my dad go. I _hated _acting all pathetic, but if dad was taken away, my mind would be out of control for good.

The cop slowly walked back in, where dad was stilling yelling.

I heard the cop say to another, "Matt, there's…there's a child…out there."

"What?"

"A child. Outside."

"What child?"

"A little girl. I-I…I don't know where she's come from…"

"Ahh, shit…."

"Shaylee…" I heard dad say.

"What is she _doing_?" Mom whimpered.

"You…you bought _Shaylee with you_?!" Dad roared.

"She came running out the doorway, she didn't believe you'd be here…I _told _her _not _to come out!"

"Are you _stupid_?!"

I shuffled backwards. No way were they getting hold of me.

I heard a sudden eruption of screaming from dad, and a mom's body drop to the floor. The cops yelled at him, but his screaming overpowered all of them.

"Shaylee! _Shaylee_! SHAYLEE!" he bawled.

"Dad…" I whispered.

"Mr. Napier, we are arresting you, you have the right to remain silent…"

"_No_! NO NO! My daughter! _Shaylee_!"

_Shaylee, fight back. He's your dad. Fight for what's right_.

No…

_Fight, Shaylee_.

I stormed into the shop, and saw dad being held back by the cops. They were attempting to walk him out of the shop, but he was just too strong for two of them to push him out. Mom was on the floor, gasping for air, next to dad's gun, the very same one I'd used two years ago. She was glaring at me, furiously. The dad fought both of them off and came running towards me.

"_Shaylee_!"

"Dad…Dad!"

The two cops held him back again, this time keeping a firm grip on his hands. I could barely see because the tears blurred my vision.

"No! _No_! Get off me! _Shaylee_!"

_Fight back, Shaylee._

"I'm not letting them take you, daddy!" I cried, running towards him.

Dad fiercely punched one of the cops, as he broke free from their grasp again. I saw the cop fall to the floor unconscious, as the other missed him while ran towards me. Dad lifted me off my feet and hid myself in his shoulder. I may have been ten but I was still small for my age, small enough for him to lift me up. He kept me rested on his hip, while I felt him dash to another place.

Then he stopped.

Everything stopped. It was so sudden.

Then all I could hear was dad's panting, as well as my own crying into his shoulder. I heard dad's gun load, so I tightly closed my eyes and prepared myself for the gunshot.

"So, you gonna try and get me again now, huh?" Dad threatened. I guessed he was pointing the gun towards the cop. "You gonna use physical force now, while I have a little girl in my arms?"

"Please, Mr. Napier, just put the gun down, and we can–"

"Why should I? You're here, practically attacking me, trying to take me away. For what? Because I was involved in a little robbery. People like you make me sick. I suppose you hate scum like me, huh? Because all we do is run around and nick things. Aren't you forgetting somethin'? Some people….have a motivations. You know? The four of us had different ones, but _mine_, if you must know, is to provide for this little one right here. Not _her_, on the floor over there. She pretends to be worried, but it's just a cry for poor attention. _She's _the one you should be arresting. For neglect."

"He's lying!" Mom yelled.

"Ahh, you see? She immediately denies it! How funny." There was a horribly tense pause. "I could do it, you know." I heard the cop gasp. "I could shoot you, you know. But then what would happen, huh?"

Nothing was said for a few seconds. I gripped upon dad's shirt for protection. Even though he had a gun in his hand, I knew I was safe in dad's arms.

"You've got two of us. One of us has done one. You weren't successful catching her, now were ya? Wherever could she be?"

Her?

I was waiting for the moment dad would shoot. Instead I felt us moving. I felt a gush of wind, now knowing we were outside.

Dad turned his head and leant it on mine.

"Do you have your eyes closed, baby?" he whispered. I nodded my head, not moving from my position. "Good girl. I don't want you to see anything right now." I could feel his hot breath on my face. Even with my eyes closed, I could tell he was grinning right now. I knew he had a trick up his sleeve.

We moved again, this time back into the shop.

"Hmm, you're not a very good cop, are ya?" Dad laughed. "None of you are. So…_pathetic_."

"Put the child down," the cop pleaded, like a coward.

I heard dad chuckle quietly. I didn't move, but I slight smile appeared on my face.

Suddenly, dad cried, "_Harleen_!"

Who's Harleen?

I didn't know, of course. I couldn't tell what she looked like at that moment, because dad told me not to look. I _can_, in fact, tell you what she sounded like. The moment dad called her name, I heard an annoying high-pitched squeal fill up the room. It drew closer and closer, her dirty laughter along with her squealing. Dad and I moved backwards, with dad laughing maniacally.

"_Hi_, officer!" Harleen cried in a ridiculously high-pitched voice. "Gee, it's amazing who can come across with doin' your job, eh?"

I couldn't really remember what happened after that, other than hearing dad and 'Harleen' laugh like maniacs as there were lots of punches and slaps. I guessed she was beating up the cop. She succeeded, too. Goddamn. I mean, after a few moments I heard nothing but their laughter, which began to grow on me. It almost sounded beautiful. I started giggling along with them.

"It's okay to look now, beautiful," Dad whispered to me.

I tensely perked my head up and gazed at his face. He'd been sweating like a pig, his eyes were red, but he still managed to grin at me. Harleen was still laughing uncontrollably. I didn't want to look at her, so I just looked at dad.

"That's why you always gotta plan ahead," he giggled. "Wouldn't be anywhere without my Harleen."

"Aw, ya too kind!"

Mom coughed loudly. I completely forgotten she was still there.

"_Diana_!" Harleen cried. "Hiya, babe!"

How did she know _mom_? I dug my head back into dad's shoulder again, still refusing to look at her.

"What are _you _doing here?" Mom asked, totally baffled.

"Just helping out Jack, ya know," she replied, giggling.

"Jack?"

"Relax, Di," Dad said. "She's just a good friend."

"My ass."

"How rude!" Harleen shouted.

"Ahhh, okay, let's get you home Shaylee," Dad said, as I felt us move again. "You comin', Harleen?"

"Shouldn't you be asking _me _if I want to come home, Jack?!"

"It's not all about you!" Harleen yelled.

"Ah, do what you like, Diana," Dad said. "I'm not bothered after tonight. What were you doing? Just because it's late you'd thought I'd been arrested? Hate to break it to you, love, but…I didn't!"

Harleen laughed loudly in response, making my skin crawl.

"I _was _going to come home, you know! I planned for all four of us to escape, but, no, now two have us have gone because you dented our strategy! But you bought Shaylee with you!"

"Poor girl!" Harleen said.

"Shut up a minute, Harls," Dad snapped.

"She _wanted _to come and find you!"

"Oh, _such _a remarkable effort you made keeping her at home! She could've got hurt! She could've been taken away from us! They'll be trying to do that now! No that you'd care anyway."

I couldn't stand this any longer. No more.

"Dad, please don't argue," I mumbled. He said nothing. "Just take me home."

Dad held my head, closer to his shoulder. "Alright, I'm sorry, princess. Let's get you home. I'm so sorry." He squeezed me tightly. "I'm sorry…"

"Shaylee!" Mom called.

"I don't want to talk to you," I said, as calm as possible.

Harleen burst out laughing again. "Such a cute little girl you have, Di! How come _I've _never met her?"

"You're only interested in _Jack_!"

I could feel dad's impatience. "Are you coming or not?!" he yelled. "Before these guys wake up and then you'll be in trouble."

"Aw, Jackey, can't I just have a _little _catch up with my old friend?"

"Do what you want. But I'm taking Shaylee home, I'm not hanging around."

"Wait for me then, Jack," Mom called, but then I heard her gasp in surprise.

"Ahh no no no no no…" Harleen giggled. "You're staying with _me_!"

"Let go of me! You're crazy…."

Their voices drowned out as we moved further away, with dad casually shutting the door behind him, like he'd just paid a normal visit to the shop. I slowly lifted my head, as I saw dad put his gun inside his jack pocket. He looked at me, smiling, but also looking extremely guilty. It was so strange. It felt like that scene of horror had never happened. Dad was suddenly calm. The monster inside of him had been killed, but I was sure it would rise from the dead again soon.

"Are you okay, Shay?" he asked, as we turned the corner, away from the scene of crime.

"I…yes…I am."

"It's okay not to be, you know." He smiled at me, kindly.

"I was so scared, dad. I was so scared."

"I know, I know…" he shushed me as he jumped me on his hip. "I was too, honey."

"Were you?"

"Of course I was. Didn't you see me?"

"But you're _never _scared."

"I wasn't letting you get hurt, Shaylee. Not on my life."

"Daddy, it's my fault. I didn't believe mom and I ran away, I didn't think you'd even be there, I'd thought you'd be in the city…I, I…I shouldn't have…"

"Hey, come on, you know what she's like. I keep telling you, if I'm not back before half nine she goes sick because she thinks I've murdered someone or something like that. I_ was _going to come home…we just had a little delay, that's all."

"I tried to tell her that!"

"I'm sure you did."

"Are you okay, now, daddy?"

"Of course I am, of course I am…my head's still going a bit, but…"

"Mine too."

"Our stupid minds, eh, baby?"

I smiled as I nuzzled up to his shoulder.

We then arrived back at the flat, with the door unlocked. We both got ready for bed immediately.

But here's the part that made me curious: Mom didn't come home. And I swear to you, just before I went to bed, I heard a very, very distant explosion.

Probably my head again.

It wasn't. This wasn't my mind playing tricks again.

That was real.

I told you I wasn't crazy…

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><p><strong>***Oooh, cliffhanger! I really didn't want to do that, but, I felt like it was needed :P***<strong>


	7. Chapter 6 - Getaway!

*****Finally, chapter 6 is here! Sorry about the wait, but this chapter turned out to be much longer than I planned :P Definitely an important chapter this one, as it does move the story on a little, although the next chapter will do so as well. The next chapter will probably take just as long, but I just keep getting new ideas to add in all the time! :P But when you have a great idea, you just have to include it.**

**For all the people who are reading and following or have given me positive feedback, I thank you! It really does mean a lot! I'm trying so hard to make this story as good as I can get. So thank you all for your patience (if you have been waiting! XD)*****

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><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Getaway!<strong>

"Dad?"

I peered through dad's bedroom door. He was lying face down on his bed, his covers carelessly hanging over onto the floor. His head was under his pillow, and he tightly gripped his pillow over his head with his hands and his body was completely stiff. The side lampshade was dimly lit, enlarging his shadow on the wardrobe.

"Dad?" I whispered again as I looked through the gap in his door.

He stirred slightly, but he remained silent.

I thought I should leave him, but I was determined to prove my mind wasn't playing tricks.

I tiptoed into the room and stood beside his bed, silently stepping over the covers on the floor. Dad kept his face hidden, not making a sound.

"Daddy?" I said, nudging his shoulder slightly.

Then I heard him sigh quietly.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice muffled under the pillow.

"Did you hear a…uh…"

"What?"

"Did you hear, like a, faint bang just then?"

Dad then removed his face from under the pillow, curiously looking at me.

"Well, I can barely hear anything under here, darlin'," he chuckled.

"Dad, I'm serious."

He paused, as he nervously rubbed his face, before putting his hand closed over his mouth. He stared at my serious face for a while.

"Are you sure it's not just…you know…" Dad whispered, removing his hand from his mouth.

"It's not my head!" I yelled.

"Alright, alright, calm down…" Dad said calmly, sitting up.

"I promise I heard something!" I cried.

Dad continued to stare at me. "An explosion?" he asked.

"Yes, I heard it, it was far away…" I replied, nodding my head.

"Ahh, it was probably Harleen blowing something up," Dad said, smiling. "Unless it was a gunshot, but…it can't have been. She didn't have a gun…Not that I saw..."

"_Blowing something up_?"

"Yeah, she's like that."

I paused. "Dad…who _is _that Harleen lady?"

Dad's smiled faded and he started to fidget. His eyes nervously looked around the room before coming back to me, who looked at him, questionably.

"She's, uh…she's a friend," he finally said.

"A friend?" I sounded shocked.

"Yeah…yeah…"

"How does she know mom, though?"

Dad sighed heavily, before gently taking my hand. His weary eyes looked straight into mine.

"Do you really wish to know?" he asked.

"Yeah…"

"Okay. I _was _going to tell when…when you were older, but…maybe you _do_ need to know…I'll tell you tomorrow when we have some time alone, huh? Your mother's going to be raving mad tomorrow…"

"She hasn't even come home…"

"Ahh, don't worry, Shay, she'll be…she'll be _home_. When Harleen starts talking, she can't stop. She's probably gotcha mother tied down listening to her."

Dad started giggling quietly, looking downwards, shyly.

"Dad?" I said.

He coughed loudly, making me jump and he let go of my hand, before getting himself comfortable again.

"Right, young lady, to bed," he said. "You need sleep. I'm locking this door, no way am I letting your mother in here tonight. If you hear her raging around, just ignore her. She's not worth it."

He slumped his head back on his pillow and turned his face away again.

I don't know what came over me, but I suddenly leaned down, and very gently kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, dad," I whispered.

He didn't say anything as I walked out, but just before I shut the door, I glanced over at him and saw he was smiling, making me do just the same. I couldn't believe I did that.

That night, I curled myself in my bed and starting dreaming up ideas about who this Harleen was. I thought back to her funny high-pitched voice and the annoying remarks she made at dad. Even a ten year old like me could make the obvious conclusion she was crazy. I thought dad was crazy even at that time, but he was normal compared to her. Although their laughter seemed so harmonious, it almost sounded the same. Maybe she was copying him, maybe she wanted to be like him and that's why she beat up the cop for him.

At least I didn't have to think about her for that long. I fell asleep within minutes.

I was hoping to get a well-deserved lie in the next morning, but things can never go my way, can they?

At around 9am, I was woken up by dad banging deafeningly on my door, waking me immediately.

"Shaylee?" he called. His voice was filled with worry.

I sat up, ruffling my hair as I did so. "Yes…?" I moaned.

"Are you up?"

"I am now."

"Get _up_! Come in the sitting room right now! There's something…." His voice trailed off. I could hear his shaky sighs, making me alert.

"Okay, I'm coming. What's _wrong_?" I said.

"Just…just…just come with me, _please_."

I threw my covers to one side and got out of bed. Dad wasn't there when I stepped out of my bedroom, rubbing my eyes. I peered through the wide-open kitchen door, to look for mom, but there was no sign of her. I crept into their bedroom to find her, but she was still nowhere to be seen.

I started to panic.

That's when I finally rushed into the sitting room, where dad was surprisingly sat directly in front of the television, gazing at the screen in front of him, still in his pyjamas and his hair frizzy in front of his face. I stood stiff in the doorway. He didn't look at me.

Gotham News was on the TV, but I was so shocked by dad weirdly sat there, that I didn't catch what was on the news.

Finally, I managed to stutter, "D-Dad?"

He didn't move.

"Dad?" I said again. My heart began to pound. "Dad what's wrong?"

Then he sighed quietly and closed his eyes.

"Come sit down," he said, blankly.

I wasn't going to question him, so I immediately sat next to him. His eyes were still glued to the TV, and he began to look very worried.

"Dad, is everything okay?" I asked, quietly. "What's going-?"

"Shhh," he said, softly. "Just watch. It's the second item up."

I looked at the News on the TV, where they proceeded to talk about something totally boring. I kept making worried glances at dad, who didn't move a muscle. He didn't utter a word to me.

Then the second item came up, so I paid close attention. It was obviously very important if dad had woken me up just to watch it. I felt my hands becoming sweaty as I wiped them on my t-shirt. Dad still didn't move.

The story began.

"A woman has been found dead at a scene of crime in Gotham Town, following a robbery at a jewellery store."

My heart stopped.

"The woman, who has been identified as Diana Jane Jenson, was witnessed being shot dead by Harleen Frances Quinzel by the police, and afterwards she attempted to blow up the store. Quinzel was later arrested. Police are still investigating Quinzel's motivation and her prison sentence is yet to be confirmed. The robbery at Goldie's Jewels in Gotham Town took place last night, where two men were arrested and one other escaped after threatening Officer Matthew Grayson with a gun. More information about the scene is yet to confirmed, however, it is known that Quinzel was working with the three men and she confessed to be an acquaintance of the victim Diana Jenson. As of now, the police are searching for the getaway man, who was later identified as Jack Napier."

My heart sunk like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my God…" my trembling voice whispered.

I put my quivering finger to my mouth, making my tongue bleed as I desperately tried not to cry.

Dad sat there wide-eyed and slightly open-mouthed. Dad finally glanced at me.

"Shaylee…" he whispered, his voice shaking horribly.

I started panting uncontrollably and I could feel that horrible pain inside of me, so I quickly covered my eyes. I shut them tightly, biting my lips harder.

Mom. Oh, mom.

I felt dad grab my arm. "Shaylee..." he said again, as he forcefully moved it away from my face.

I didn't want to look at him.

"Look at me," he said, harshly.

Very tensely, I lifted my head up to look at him. He lifted my chin up and used that familiar serious tone again.

"Listen to me, Shay," he instructed. "Listen. Now, don't cry, don't cry…come on…I know, I know, it's…it's a bit of a shock, but listen…this is what you're going to do. Go to your room, grab your suitcase, and get your stuff together."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What? Dad, why…?" I whimpered.

"Shh-hh-hh…just do as I say, right? Look, there's only one way we can get through this." He paused, looking at me expectantly. "_Go on_."

I shot out of the room and immediately did as I was told. God knows what dad was planning to do, but I was too scared to question him. It was rare I used my suitcase because we never _ever _went away.

I pulled it out from under my bed and starting rushing to pack my things, constantly putting my hands to my head and panting hard. My mind was banging furiously, making me untidily pack my belongings. I gathered all of the things I loved as well as clothes, like my special pens and paper. I also got dressed but I was in such a state that I didn't bother making myself look half decent.

Once I'd gotten everything, I unzipped my case and I sat on my bed, in complete silence. I didn't listen out for anything. I didn't _need _to. There were too many noises yelling in my head already. Dad and Harleen's hysterical laughter from the previous evening kept replaying in my mind, the noise increasing more and more and more. It was overshadowed quickly by mom's voice, followed by a deafening gunshot and then mom's familiar yelling I was so used to, the shrill scream and her nagging and shouting and shouting and shouting and…

"_Shut up_! _Shut up, mom_! SHUT UP! You're not even here anymore! _Get lost_!"

It got louder and louder until I had to cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. I fell onto my knees on my bedroom floor, my hands tightly gripping my head.

_Block out the sound, Shaylee. Fight back. It'll drown it out._

"Please! _Just shut up_! _Mom_!"

It was so thunderous in my mind and my piercing screams were racking the walls so much, I didn't hear my bedroom door being kicked down by dad.

The next thing I remember was fluttering my eyes open to see dad looking down on me. My eyes were filled with tears. I was laying on dad's lap in the middle of my bedroom floor. My head was still racking slightly, making me yell out loud a couple of times, but dad shushed me and softly stroked my hair to keep my calm. By his side was his own small backpack, and he was dressed in one of those purple suits with a green checked tie.

"Dad? Dad, what happened to me?!" I shouted, as I clung onto him.

"You just had a little breakdown, honey," Dad whispered. "It's okay. I'm here."

"Oh, dad. Daddy, _why_? Dad…dad why won't they _stop_?" I screamed, as the tears continued to roll down my cheeks. Dad gently wiped them away with his freezing cold hands.

"Shhh, Shaylee, it's okay," he whispered, soothingly. "Don't listen to _any of them_. They're not real. It's _all _in your head."

"Dad, they won't….they _won't_…"

I sobbed into his arms and he held me close to his chest.

"Baby, I know it's horrible," he said, gently. "You think I haven't had the same problem?" He rested his head on mine. "The voices…they're not real, they're just the most evil thing you could possibly get, there to make your life a misery. And people say I'm scum? They don't know what it's like…to have _voices_…I tell ya, Shaylee, if only they _knew_…you're a little girl going through the worst thing in the world, and I mean that. This is _much_ worse than you getting bullied or you failing your grades. You're only ten years old. They have _no _idea. They can do _nothing_." He sighed. "Come on, now, princess…it's _all _okay now, hmm?"

I sniffled as I nervously wrapped my arms around my father. We stayed there for a couple of minutes as the voices faded away, one by one. I eventually looked up at dad, who stroked my cheek as he smiled at me, proudly.

"Better now, darlin'?" he asked.

I nodded as I wiped another tear away. I sighed heavily as I calmed myself down.

"Okay," Dad said. "You have everything ready?"

It had slipped my mind that I'd packed a suitcase. I stood up and whirled around, gripping the suitcase and nearly falling over.

"Hey, hey, hey, take it easy…" Dad said, holding my shoulders. "Calm down, now."

I sighed again as put my left hand on my head.

"Dad, where are we going?" I asked quietly, not looking at him.

"To the city," he replied, simply.

I shot my head up at him. "Why?"

"Well…" Dad lifted my chin up again, as his voice became more serious, making me pay attention. "You heard the news, didn't you? I…I don't really know what to think. Most of it is probably bullshit. Harleen would've been arrested, yeah, but…"

"So you don't think mom's dead?" I asked.

"Well…yeah, she…she probably is. They…they say they're 'investigating' her motivation? Bullshit. They _know _that she works with me…"

"What?"

"Yeah, yeah…you see, we've worked together a lot...one time…we were in the city, and we got caught mugging this guy…"

"Mugging?"

"Stealing something from this guy, basically, Shay, yeah? And I got away, and poor Harleen, she was caught, but she claimed I forced her to do it. I never did. _That _got us both into trouble. Mind you, this was quite a while ago…when you were about four, honey. So anyway…we _both _got arrested but managed to get away with it…it's a long story why. It doesn't matter, does it? Anyway, they _know _we work together, she's a little idiot and she always falls for helping me. She's even _said _to the cops she does all this stuff to please me…Personally, I just think she's _crazy_. Last night she was a little crazier than usual. She probably _did _shoot your mom, but…our plan was never to blow up the place. That proves just how mad she's turning out to be. Anyway…they're coming for me…they didn't even _mention _you were at the scene and _that's_…that's good, I guess, but, as soon as they find me, they'll take you away. I'm not having that. My job is to protect and provide for you, isn't it, Shaylee?"

"Y-Yes."

"Yes. They're not taking you away from me. If you were, all hell would be let loose. _God knows _what I'd turn into…"

"Daddy, I wouldn't _let _them take me away from you…"

"I know you wouldn't, because you're daddy's big tough girl, aren't you?" He winked at me. "But I can't risk it. But really, now the police are looking for me…they know me. And they know I have you, and now Diana…"

Dad's voice trailed off as he sighed, shakily and glanced away from me. He looked like he was about to start crying.

"Daddy?" I said, as I reassuringly held his arm. He looked at me, smiling gratefully.

"Look, I just _know_, honey. They don't let people like me keep a child as young as you. Especially now I'm…" He paused for a while as he glanced upwards. "Now I'm on my own. So, we're going to the City for a little while, to protect ourselves. Until they give up their little search party. There's this place I know, a friend owns it, he'll let us stay there for a while. I'm not letting them find us, Shaylee. You're staying with me, I _swear _to you. When I feel it's safe to come back to the flat, we'll come back, okay?"

"Okay," I said, bravely.

"That's my girl," he said, as he kissed my forehead.

I smiled widely. I loved it when a rare moment like that happened.

Dad flung his bag over his shoulder and ventured into the hallway, where I followed him, dragging my suitcase behind me. He paced up and down the room for ages, ruffling his hair and shuffling his feet. Judging by his movement, I could tell he was very nervous. Dad was only like this when he was _really _worried about something, or if he was in a state of shock. I think it was both of those things in this case.

I still didn't know what to think about mom. The thought of her dead made my stomach turn a little bit, and thinking about it, it did strike a pain inside of me. The fact I could still hear her, though, scared me beyond belief.

I traced him up and down the room with my eyes, before asking, "Dad, are you okay?"

He glanced at me before quickly turning away again. "Yeah, yeah…_of course_."

He grabbed the keys on the table and plunged them into his pocket, before making his way back to me in the doorway again.

"Do me a favour, Shaylee?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Go to my room, and get me my gun, will you?"

I gulped. "Y-Yes, dad."

"It's under the bed."

I rushed into his room and retrieved that familiar black gun from under the bed. Just holding it in my hand flooded my mind with memories again.

I was just about to head out the room, when dad barged in like a commanding officer and flung open his wardrobe door. He kneeled down and shoved three pots of that face-paint into his arms, before slamming the door shut with his elbow and walking out, followed by me, carefully holding the gun in my right hand.

Dad dropped them down on the hallway floor, and then turned to me, grinning when he saw the gun in my hand.

"Thank you, precious," he said, as he took it off me.

"That's okay," I said, managing a small smile.

"Will these fit in your case, Shay?" Dad asked, pointing to the face paint.

"Erm, probably," I replied, laying my case on the floor and starting to unzip it.

Dad place his gun inside his jacket pocket as he returned to his bedroom. Luckily, there was just enough room to fit the three pots of face paint in. Dad returned to the hallway as I was struggling to zip up my case again. As I finished, I saw his back turned to me, fiddling with something. I lifted my case back up and stood up with it, just before dad turned around, putting his gun in his pocket again, and then something else inside his jacket.

"Right, okay, are we ready?" he asked.

"Yeah…" I replied.

"Are you okay, baby?" Dad kneeled down.

"Yeah, I am…it just all seems so sudden, dad…"

"Yeah, I know, I know…things have been changing all the time and they're _still _changing…I don't know, if it will _ever _stop. Fuck, our minds are annoying, aren't they?"

"Tell me about it. I just want it to stop."

"They will, you just have to keep calm. Don't panic, stay close to me, and you'll be fine. Okay?"

"Yes, dad."

A smile formed across dad's lips. "Good girl. Okay, let's go."

We walked over to the front door with our cases and dad flicked the light off. He opened the door wide, when I suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait, dad?" I said.

"What?"

"How are we gonna get there? We don't have a car. Won't people see us…?"

"Hey, hey, calm yourself…it's all gonna be fine. Didn't you know I passed my driving test _years ago_?"

"But…"

"Shaylee, daddy has it _all _worked out."

"So you have a plan?"

Dad paused as he touched my face, smiling a crafty grin at me. "Do I _ever _have a plan?" he chuckled.

It was so nice to her him laugh after such a horrific morning.

"Don't you?" I asked, surprised.

"Hmm, I just…_do _things. I don't have plans, not a lot, not like the cops, who are planning to take my baby off me, which is why I'm going to the City to keep her away from them."

He gave me a wink before stepping out of the door and onto the pathway. He strolled out like a badass, and I followed him out, dragging my case behind me. Dad turned around and locked the door, then placing the key inside his long purple coat. He gave me the nod to follow, so I did.

"Stay on your toes, Shaylee," he whispered as we began to walk down the street. "And if anyone dares to speak to you, don't give them _any_ information. If they want info, _I'll _give it to 'em."

I nodded. I felt my legs already aching. Just proves how unfit I was.

"Dad, it's going to be such a pain dragging this around all the time," I moaned as we steadily walked down the bland street.

"I know," Dad replied. "Which is why we're getting a little lift."

"What? From who?"

"Shaylee, I told you, I can _drive_."

I stared at him curiously, as dad suddenly put his hand in front of me, making us both stop dead in our tracks just before the corner. Dad grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall, managing not to hurt me. He put himself against the wall too, as he peered around the corner. I saw him delicately pull out his gun from his pocket, making me nervous, but also focused. He continued to look around the corner, and pulled up his bag on his shoulder.

"Right," he addressed me, lowering his voice. "Stay here. Don't move until I call you, understand?"

"Yes, dad," I answered, immediately.

"_There's_ a good girl."

He slowly walked around the corner until he was out of my sight. I anxiously looked around me, to see if anyone was watching. I knew I had to be alert, I couldn't let anyone catch us. I wasn't stupid.

Once I'd checked to see everything was clear, I looked around the corner to see what dad was up to, still holding my case's handle in my hand. Dad was halfway down the other side of the street, where he was standing near a blue car. The car was parked on the side, and dad was pacing up around it, keeping his gun firmly in his hand, occasionally prodding it. I shuffled my feet, waiting for him to make a move. I glanced over my shoulder many times, to check if no one was going to bother me.

Then I saw dad trying to open the door, but obviously it remained shut. It took him half a second to then shoot the door, where the window of the smashed beautifully. Dad got out of way before then sticking his arm through the window. The gunshot didn't bother me, what bothered me more was the fact dad needed to hurry before someone caught him. Take his advice, stay put, but stay on your toes at all times.

The next thing I knew, the car door could suddenly open and dad skilfully swung it open. He'd obviously managed to unlock it from the inside, which at the time I thought was unbelievable because I didn't have a clue, I hardly ever sat in a car at the time. He'd also managed not to hurt himself on the shattered glass, making me feel much calmer. Dad took a few moments to look around before running back towards me.

I couldn't wait. I dashed out, pulling my case behind me, to meet up with dad. My case bumped uncontrollably on the road as I sprinted to dad, who didn't even have to call my name, my mind knew it was the right time to follow him. We met in the middle, both of us panting hard, as he took my free hand, gripping it tightly. As he held my hand, we dashed like criminal getaways to the car.

"Give me your case," Dad ordered, when we reached the car.

I couldn't lift it, so dad took it off me and carefully pushed in through the smashed window until it landed on the front passenger seat.

Before we could do anymore, we both jumped upon hearing a loud yell coming from a house behind us.

"Hey! What you think you're doing?!" A middle-aged man with a red face barged out from his front door and started running towards his front gate. I clung onto dad, who rolled his eyes before looking down at me.

"Get in the car," he said, as calmly as possible.

"But dad…"

"Just get in, Shaylee, trust me."

I didn't argue. Carefully not trying not to touch the smashed glass on the concrete, I opened the car and sat myself in the driver's seat. Dad slammed the door on me and peered at me through the windowless car door. I could still see the man running behind dad, it's a good job he wasn't very fast.

"Push that onto the floor," Dad said. "Sit in the other seat."

I pushed down the handle and struggled to shove the bag onto the foot space on the floor. As I was doing that, dad put his back against the car door, facing away from me, ready to meet his hopeless prey.

"What are _you_ doing?!" the man shouted at dad.

Just as I'd managed to complete putting it on the floor and sitting in the other seat, I saw dad point the gun at the man's face, making him back away, helplessly. I thought dad was going to fire his clever comebacks at the man, but surprisingly, he addressed me.

"Shay?" he said.

My heart started beating fast. "Y-Yes?"

"Look out the other window for me, darlin'," he said, his tone now having that mischievousness to it. "Make sure no one's coming."

The craftiness in his voice intrigued me. "Yes, daddy," I replied, beaming, although he couldn't see me.

As I observed in the window, the man continued to try and take on dad.

"Is that _your _child?!" he asked, sounding incredibly stupid.

Dad erupted into boisterous laughter. "Ye-Yes, she's my child! Don't be _silly_ now! Anyway, about your car, can we just…?"

"It's not my car," the man replied.

"It's not?" Dad laughed even harder.

"No…"

I couldn't help but turn around to see his expression. I started giggling when I saw him with his hands up in the air. Dad was now closer to him, laughing in his face and still clutching the gun.

"Then – then _why _you come running over asking us about it? Huh?" Dad asked, loudly.

"B-Because…I wasn't going to let you just steal a car, was I?"

"Ha! Watching me through your window was you now, huh? Nosey parker!"

That's when I burst out laughing too. Dad's comebacks just cracked me up every time. It was so good to have a laugh after such an awful morning.

"Funny, ain't it, Shay," Dad continued, "how people like this think they can _save the day _when actually they're…just…pathetic? So why don't you run along, and let me get my little girl to the city for safety?"

Dad then violently grabbed him by the neck, making me lean closer on my seat. I don't know why, but this scene was so captivating to me. It was like one of dad's stories coming to life before my eyes.

"Please…please," the man cried. "Just, please, don't hurt me…"

"Isn't that interesting, baby?!" Dad called to me. The man looked completely terrified, and dad wasn't even at his most angry. "He's suddenly turned into a _scaredy-cat_! I _could_ hurt you, you know….but you could have a wife and kids in that house. I'm not _that_ heartless. I've just lost _my _fiancée…trust me. It's…it's not _pretty_."

Dad's voice had suddenly turned dangerous, like his usual unpredictable self, so I sat back again and gripped onto the door handle. I wasn't scared, but I was just preparing for a gunshot at any moment. I knew what dad was like, after all.

Dad paused for a long while, and I glanced out the window again. I couldn't believe no one else was around, but then again they wouldn't dare come near dad who was holding a man at gunpoint in broad daylight.

"_But_…if you let me go and run away like a little coward, I'll leave you be…and _don't _threaten me with 'I'm calling the police' because then you _will _die. Is that clear?" Dad said in his scary voice.

I looked back again to see what would happen. The man didn't say anything, he was just whimpering like a pathetic loser, a bit like mom did when dad had held by the throat. The gun was digging into his neck by now, which I guess made it a little harder to speak, but, I just thought to myself, is _anyone _actually not a coward in this godforsaken town?

I heard dad sigh heavily.

"What should I do, Shaylee?" he called to me.

I stuttered pathetically, as I was unprepared for dad to fire questions at me. Although I could not look into his eyes at that moment, I knew that they were probably sparkling with the urge to kill.

"Uhh...what do _you _think?" my silly answer was.

"Well, can we _trust _this man?" Dad asked, poking the gun in his throat more.

_Look at him, Shaylee, he's nothing but a goodie two shoes. He'll ring the police as soon as he gets in his house, and you know what that means. They'll take you away from your dad, Shaylee. He's not worth it_.

"I don't think so, daddy," I replied, sweetly.

"Ahh, _now there's _a good judge of character, my Shaylee!" Dad chuckled as he pushed the man onto the cold pavement, and spat on him. The man yelled in pain, I guessed that was from the shattered glass on the walkway.

"Please!" the man cried. "I won't do _anything_…I swear! Just don't hurt me!"

"You _need _to lighten up, man," Dad said, pointing the gun at him. "Let me tell ya, you messed with the _wrong guy_, this morning. Did you really expect me to just give up the car, when I have a duty to take my daughter somewhere _safe_?!"

He paused. By now I was on the driver's seat, leaning over to witness the action. Dad turned his head slightly to speak to me.

"Remember what I said to you last night?" he said. "Close your eyes, I don't want you to see anything, Shaylee. This is _not _something for a lady to witness."

I giggled and did as I was told. I climbed back onto the passenger seat and covered my ears, preparing for the gunshot.

"Why so serious?" Dad laughed.

"_Please_…" the man uttered his final words.

_Bang_.

Thank goodness this time it didn't start my head racking and making the voices argue.

Dad quickly got into the car and slammed the door behind him.

"_Alright_, I want to drive!" Dad yelled, placing his gun inside his pocket again.

I'd now positioned myself in the passenger seat againand sat there casually, as if a scene of murder had never happened. Dad glanced at me and I looked back up at him, smiling. Then my smile faded as I realised we had no keys to start the car.

"Wait, dad, how are we going to start the car?!" I cried.

Dad chuckled as he fiddled inside one of his pockets inside his jacket. "You think I didn't plan ahead?" he said, with a crafty grin.

"I thought you didn't plan," I replied, confused.

"Shush, you," Dad laughed. "Look."

He revealed a golden key from his pocket, making me open-mouthed. Dad placed it into the keyhole and the engine started roaring.

"Dad, what? How…? What is _that_? What…?" I spluttered.

"Don't ask, honey," he answered. "Just _go with it_."

Although I was still totally amazed, I decided to take his advice. I scuffled in my seat, preparing for the journey. I heard dad cough loudly.

"Shaylee?" he said.

"Yes?"

"Seatbelt."

I sighed and quickly strapped myself in and dad did the same.

"Don't want you flying out the window and joining him, now would I?" Dad laughed as he finally got the car going.

Before we knew it we zoomed off through the streets of our grey Gotham Town, zooming past the bleak buildings and past Little Hill Elementary, and I looked at it in disgust when we drove past. Because the glass from the driver's seat window has completely gone, we had a constant gush of wind blasting through the car, sending my hair out of control and it wasn't helping dad's hair much either. Dad dashed through the roads full speed ahead, making cars beep from left, right and centre, but he didn't care. His face was one of pure delight, so he was driving uncontrollably. My feet were resting on top of my suitcase below me. Although I loved observing the streets through my window and feeling my hair in the wind, I couldn't help but worry. Yes, we were strapped in, dad wasn't that stupid, but with his adrenaline rush I didn't feel safe at all. Plus, he didn't want to be caught speeding, the police were on his tracks already.

We'd just come out of Gotham Town and was heading onto the motorway to the City, when I finally plucked up my courage.

"Dad?"

No answer.

"Dad!" I shouted.

He shot his head up at me. "Yes, darlin', what is it?"

I could barely hear him because of the wind drowning out our voices.

"Dad, is it okay for you to be driving?" I asked, making my voice clearer.

"Yes, yes, of course it is, I have a licence, Shay, like I said."

"What?"

"I have a licence!"

"Oh right."

"Why?"

"I was just wondering are you well enough to be driving?!"

"What?"

"Are you well enough, dad?!"

"Yes! I'm _fine_! I'm not ill, sweetheart, I _told _you."

"Shouldn't you slow down?!"

"Slow down? Nah, I'm getting to the City as soon as I can!"

"But won't we get caught?"

"Sorry?"

"I said won't we get caught, daddy?"

"_No_! Never! Like I said, they're useless, and if they're looking for me they'll start in the town, that's why we're moving!"

"How long will we be in the car?"

"How long? Uhh...well with my driving, darlin', we shouldn't be _too _long! Oh and by the way, when we get to this secret place where we're staying, don't be scared, you know…"

"Scared?" I started laughing.

"What's so funny, hmm?"

"I'm not scared of anything, daddy!" I said, proudly.

"Nothing _at all_?!"

"Well…I'm scared of mom…"

Dad's smile faded as he stared ahead into the road. He went deep into thought. I sat quietly, starting to fidget with my clothes again.

Finally, dad said, just clear enough for me to hear him, "Yeah…yeah, I know you were."

"I still am," I said, truthfully.

Not another word was said for about 15 minutes. Dad continued to drive ahead, as I gazed out of the window, waving to random people in their cars. Sometimes little kids waved back to me, but most of the time I got disgusted looks. Dad was right. Why _were _people so serious?

It wasn't long until we entered Gotham City. This was my first time visiting the place. I was amazed when we drove through the busy traffic. I traced the buildings on my window with my hands, trying to count all the windows on the huge skyscrapers. There were thousands of people scurrying through the streets, pushing and shoving. Most people looked happy, I saw many cheerful couples skip down the street holding hands, making me imagine mom and dad when they first met. There weren't many police cars around, but I noticed the odd cop dotted around the City. The sky was blue and cloudless that day, but I didn't feel hot because of the wind coming into the car. I felt like I'd entered a different world, because this _was _a different world to me. I wasn't used to overcrowded streets and thousands of huge stores and people looking sort of cheerful. I felt very peculiar.

My emotions were all over the place that day. To first being sort of heartbroken, to absolutely distraught (hence the breakdown), to being panicked, to then be laughing with dad as he totally gave that guy a piece of his mind. I know at I should have felt petrified at that scene, like I had been the night mom and I found dad and Harleen robbing the jewellery store, but I didn't for some reason. Maybe it was because I knew dad was in control and we were going to get out safe, the night before was different. I felt like dad could have been taken away at any moment, making me terrified.

We'd been driving through the streets for at least 10 minutes, when finally dad spoke.

"Put the radio on, Shay," he said.

I tried to work out how to work the damn thing, but it didn't take me long. Soon we had the radio blasting _such _a depressing song, making both of us silent.

The music continued playing as we drove through the busy traffic. Soon we got to the end of a road, and I was expecting dad to follow the rest of the traffic to the right, but instead, he turned sharply the other way, startling me. I screamed a little as we turned down this mysterious road, following some loud beeps behind us, but dad just laughed them off.

A catchy rock song started playing and dad turned it up on full volume, making it impossible for me to hear anything else. Dad was head banging along to the riffs as we carefully headed into this extremely narrow road which seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere. The road was empty, with no person in sight. On the left were a line of crusty old buildings that looked like they were starting to fade away. There was a huge sign on the right which clearly read 'No Parking' but when was dad ever going to listen? Dad was so into the music, he nearly scraped the side of the car on the buildings because of the narrow road.

Then dad stopped the car when we got right to the end, a fence blocking off the rest of the road. Dad turned the car off, and the music died down. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, before looking at me, who was looking quite flustered. I was already overwhelmed by the huge city, which already set my heart racing, but suddenly being cramped in a street like this made it beat even harder. I glanced around, anxiously, before finally looking to dad, who was grinning at me.

"We're _here_!" he cried, nudging my chin.

I didn't know what to say, so I kept quiet.

"This is it," Dad continued, pointing out of my window. "Joey's."

I looked out the window to see a red-brick building with the roof hanging on an end. The sign that read simply 'Joey's' was barely readable. The door was wide open, but I could see nothing inside. I unstrapped my seatbelt and peered out the window even more.

"Where are we?" I asked dad, nervously.

"Our new home for a little while," Dad replied.

"It doesn't look much like a house."

"It's not, Shay, it's an old tavern. A good friend of mine still lives here, although it's not a business anymore. Come on, let's go."

We both got out of the car, carefully trying not to hit the door on the wall. Dad walked round to my side and helped me drag my suitcase out. I slammed the door and dad locked it from the inside again.

I stayed very still, unsure what to do. Dad joined me, rummaging in his pockets. Much to my disappointment, he got out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth, followed by revealing a lighter. Dad looked at me, who had my arms folded, glaring at him.

"Honey, look," he sighed. "It's all okay isn't it?"

"Mmm," I mumbled.

"I'll just have this and we'll go in," he replied, as he began to light it.

I was starting to get frustrated, not with dad, but with myself. I was getting angry because I was terrified to walk into this new place. Whilst dad damaged his lungs, I stroked the brittle walls of Joey's Tavern, glancing upwards and observing my new 'home.' I didn't enter, but I stood in the doorway, peering into what was just darkness. I couldn't believe this guy would leave his door wide open, but then I guessed if he was _dad's _friend, he'd give the clueless wanderer a piece of his mind.

Dad threw the cigarette on the floor and stamped on it, laughing hard. I started giggling with him, too.

"What's funny, dad?" I giggled.

"Nothing," he said, cheerfully, as he flung his own bag over his shoulder. I wondered what had happened to that bag, but I didn't ask about it. "Come on, then."

I grabbed the handle of my case, as dad took my other hand, and we walked in the door together. Dad squeezed my hand as we entered the darkened room.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Dad called, making me laugh.

We waited for something to happen, but the room seemed like a tomb.

"Dad, there's no one here," I said.

"Of course there is, baby," Dad said. "It's just Larry being silly with me. He's like that."

"Who's Larry?"

"My friend, the one who owns this place, hon, remember?"

"I thought it was someone called Joey."

Dad laughed. "No! No, no, no! This place is _old_, Shaylee, older than _me_. It was owned by someone called Joey _years ago_. He's _dead now_."

At that moment, a sudden light flicked on and we heard footsteps approaching, coming down some stairs at the far end of the room, behind the old deserted bar. A man who looked about dad's age came slowly down the stairs.

"Is that Jack Napier I can hear?" he called.

"Certainly is, man!" Dad replied.

He enthusiastically came down the stairs and towards us. He had a leather jacket on and had short blonde hair. His face was spotty and covered in marks and scratches. I smiled at him, although I felt a little nervous. As I've said, I was conscious of new people, but only if they seemed like they could hurt me, if they looked harmless, then nervousness would be the last thing I would feel. This guy looked like a serious criminal, looking even more intimidating than dad did.

"Hey, man!" the man greeted, as him and dad did a little handshake and manly hug. My smile disappeared because dad had let go of my hand.

"Hey, Larry," Dad said. "How's things? Haven't seen you in…how long _has _it been?"

"A while, dude," Larry replied. "At least two months. How's the gang? You know Rob, Ken, Harleen and that?"

Wait, how did he know Harleen? I'd only known the woman's existence for a day and yet she was suddenly being brought up all the time. It was very odd.

"Ahh, not good, man, not good," Dad said, shaking his head.

Larry then finally looked down at me interestedly, I was determined to maintain that friendly smile. I didn't dare act cowardly in front of dad. Larry exchanged his eyes from me to dad numerous times, before looking at dad, chuckling slightly.

"And who's this, then, Jack?" he asked. "Haven't seen this little mite before."

Dad then winked at me and took my hand again, reassuring me everything was okay.

"This is Shaylee," he said, sounding proud. "She's my partner in crime."

I stared at dad. I wasn't sure how to react to that comment, especially when dad and Larry started laughing.

"Oh, really?" Larry said, still sniggering. "Bit young to be in _your_ gang, isn't she, pal?"

"Ha! She's not in _any _kind of gang, at least I hope she isn't. Nah, this is my little girl. Come on, man, I've told you about her before, haven't I?"

"Ah, yes, you and Diana's kid."

There was a moment of silence as Larry looked at us both, awkwardly. Talking about mom made us both feel pain. We don't like feeling emotional pain. Not one bit.

"So, what brings you here, Jack?" Larry broke the silence. "Not like you to come here during this time of the day. And with your kid, as well…" He paused as he looked at me with a worried face. "What's happened?"

"Didn't you see the news this morning?" Dad asked.

"Ah, man, I wasn't up in time. Why what's happened?"

"Harleen. That's what happened."

"Oh God. What's that bitch done now?" Larry gasped and covered his mouth, making me giggle. "Oops, sorry, ignore my language, Shaylee."

"It's okay," I said. "I hear it all the time."

Larry smiled at me before dad continued. "She's been arrested. Ken and Rob have been, too. Last night, it...it went off a bit _crazy_. Things didn't go the way we wanted, you see. Harleen was out of her mind. Diana, she – she came to find me, and she and Shaylee found us robbing the jewellery store."

"Stealing again, Jack?"

"Yeah, well, you know, we were bored...Anyway, I…I, we…" Dad's voice lingered away as he put his hands over his face.

"Jack?" Larry said, putting his hands on dad's shoulders.

"Don't touch him," I snapped at him. "It won't help."

Larry backed away slowly.

"Dad, it's okay," I said, gently. "Do you want me to tell him what happened?"

Dad removed his hands and kneeled down to my level. "Would you?" he asked.

"Yes, dad, you said I shouldn't be scared, so I'm going to be brave and tell him why we're here. It's what's best for me."

I felt a surge of pride as dad smiled broadly at me. "Okay then, darlin', I…I'm going out for, uh…"

"Cigarette?" I finished.

"Yeah, yeah…I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Dad rested his head on mine before heading out the door with his bag over his shoulder. He sighed and ruffled his hair, as he exited. I looked back at Larry, who was completely gobsmacked.

"He's…he's not himself today," I explained.

"Clearly not," Larry replied. "He's not usually like this, you know, looking all worried. I've _never _seen him be affectionate. Well, I've never met Diana, so…"

"He was never affectionate with her, either," I cut in. "He never will be."

Larry kneeled down to face me. "So what's wrong with him, sweetheart? What's going on?"

I glared at him, I hated it when someone else called me things like 'sweetheart'. I took a deep breath.

"Well, Diana, my mom…you know?" I began. Larry nodded. "Well, last night, she was…she was shot." His mouth dropped open, he stuttered but remained silent. "My…my dad's scared the police are going to take me away because they're looking for him because last night they arrested these men and this Harleen woman, and it said on the news that she shot my mom last night after we went to find dad and we found him robbing this store…"

"Wait, slow down. So are you saying that Harleen shot your _mom_ last night?"

"Yes, when we found dad and her robbing this store."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes and because my dad was involved and he got away with me because they were knocked out, they're now looking for him and if they find him dad said they'll take me away from him and we don't want that…"

"Oh my goodness…"

"I'm not sure what's going to happen to dad. Before we came here he seemed to be fine but now he's just sad and…it's _horrible_."

"I'm sure it is. I've known your dad a long time…it's not a pretty sight when he's angry."

"He was angry at my mom constantly, they always argued."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I got used to it. Even I started arguing with her. I still argue with her now and she's dead."

Larry then stared at me weirdly. I looked right into the pupils of his eyes. When I was telling someone how I felt, I always tended to stare at them right in the face, just like dad did.

"So that's why you're here?" he asked. "Because he wants you to be safe?"

"Yes. Just for a bit, until the cops give up and then he said we can go back to the town when it's safe. He said this was a good place because you're his friend and would look after us for a while."

He sighed. "Well…"

"Would no one ever find us here?"

"If you stay hidden I'm sure you'll both be safe. You must understand though, your dad can't be going out all the time and…doing things because he will get caught. He knows that, right?"

"Probably. He's not stupid."

Larry smiled at me, admiringly. "You're a very brave girl, Shaylee."

"Thank you, I like to think so."

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

"Wow, you seem much older."

"I wish I was, maybe then I could help dad more with things. Mom said he's ill, but he's not." I purposely lied to him so he wouldn't ask dad about his illness or bother him with it.

"I'm sorry about your mom."

"Don't be, I'll get over it."

"How's your dad feeling about it?"

I paused, as I pushed my hair behind my ear. "I don't know," I said. "He hasn't told me. But I _know _he's sad, but I don't want to ask him. He may get angry about it. Everything about my mom makes him angry."

Larry looked above my head and I heard footsteps approaching. Dad came back in, looking a bit calmer now. Larry stood up and dad took my hand again, squeezing it slightly.

"So has she told you everything?" he asked Larry.

"Every detail," Larry replied, a little sadly. "I'm sorry about Diana, pal."

"Don't be sorry, I'm more concerned about this little one here. So, where are we going to stay?"

"Uhhh…."

"You _are _letting us stay, aren't you?" Dad said, sharply.

"Of course man, of course, but…you can't go out unless it's an emergency. I mean, I can't let them catch you, because, you know…"

"I know, I know, I get it," Dad replied, impatiently. "Now where are we staying?"

"I have a spare room upstairs, you'll have to share a bed I'm afraid."

"That's okay," I grinned.

"Okay, well, follow me," Larry said.

We followed him up the stairs, with Larry carrying my suitcase for me. We entered a very narrow hallway, where Larry showed us right to the end, and opened the door to reveal a cramped little bedroom, with a large double bed in middle. It had a little desk and a lampshade, which pleased me because I could do my drawings. There was a neat little chest of drawers, a small mirror and a tiny window with horrid curtains that revealed the street down below and also viewed the city beyond the metal fence. I couldn't wait to gaze out of it at night time.

"This is it," Larry said, showing us in and putting my suitcase neatly underneath the bed. "Feel free to pack everything."

"Thanks, man," Dad said, smiling. "We…_appreciate _it, don't we, honey?"

I nodded as I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, not far above my head.

"So how long do you think you'll be staying for?" Larry asked.

"As long as we need to, if _that's _okay," Dad replied.

"Of course, but you have to _promise _me you won't get caught, _I'll _get into trouble too, you know."

"Lighten up, Larry!" I cried, swinging my legs in the air.

Dad burst into laughter, and he tickled my stomach, making me squeal and giggle uncontrollably.

"Well said, little one!" Dad laughed.

As we calmed down, Larry started to stutter. I began to feel he was getting nervous. Weird, I thought he was dad's friend, he shouldn't be nervous of him, should he? Especially if he knows about his crimes _and _his criminal friends.

"Erm…uh…Jack?" he stammered. Dad darted his eyes towards him as I continued laughing. "Are you hungry? Can I get you something?"

"What's the time?" Dad asked.

Larry looked at his watch. "It's half past two."

"Is it really?" Dad sounded surprised. "Later than I thought. _Okay_…well, yeah, get us something then, that'd be _marvellous_."

Larry then smiled nervously before strolling off.

"Don't make anything green!" I called after him as he went down the stairs.

Dad and I then just filled up our new bedroom with hysterical laughter. It was an amazing rush of happiness through me, even if dad's laughter was turning more insane all the time.

After a while, dad then began to take off his jacket, placing his gun and everything else on the side. Then he took off his tie, then his _shirt_.

"Dad!" I cried when I saw him topless.

"What? What's the problem, eh?"

"Why do you have no _top on_?"

"I'm putting my pyjamas on, relax."

"What now?"

"Yeah, I'm tired."

I spluttered into silly giggles again. I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes fiercely, and as dad rummaged through his little bag to get his pyjamas, I noticed something on his back. I leaned in closer until I was practically touching it. On his back there was a huge, ugly scar tracing down his spine. It looked horrifying, it made me shiver slightly. I then noticed there were many more marks and bruises dotted all over his back, making me gasp quietly.

"What's the matter?" Dad asked, whirling around to face me.

"Nothing, nothing…just…what's all those marks on your back, dad?"

"What, these scars and stuff like that?" Dad sighed, as he pulled out his pyjama top and put it on. "You get them a lot when you do the things I do, baby."

"But don't they hurt you?"

"Not really, no. Of course they hurt at first, but I've got used to it by now. I barely feel a thing. If I'm ever injured or something, I tend to shake it off quickly. I, uh…_laugh _it off more now. You don't find me coming home and complaining about them, do you?"

I didn't answer, but I just nodded, understanding.

As dad finished getting dressed, I lay down on the surprisingly comfortable bed. Dad joined me when he was finished, putting his arm around me. I nestled up to him, allowing this amazing moment to sink in.

"Oh, what a _day_, huh, Shaylee?" Dad sighed.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Tell you what, I've experienced a lot of crazy things, but last night and today have been the _craziest _so far."

Then there was a long silence. I heard cluttering downstairs, presuming that Larry was making us something. I glanced up at dad, who was staring ahead, with a blank expression.

"Dad?" I said.

"Hmm?" He didn't look at me.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

I paused as I took a deep breath. "Do you miss mom?"

He then slowly turned his head to look at me, still having that blank expression. I felt my heart starting to beat faster.

"Of course I do," he said.

I couldn't believe it. "Really?"

"I'll miss your mom forever."

"But you hated her."

Dad then waited as he giggled quietly and lifted my chin up.

"Listen to me," he said, "I _never_ hated your mom. I could _never_ hate her. Over the years…I started to not _care _about her, but I never _hated _her. Why would I ask her to marry me? Hmm? I only ever shouted at her because she treated you like shit and that was all the time. Yeah…your mom…she was fun at first. You know, honey, the very last thing I heard her say was _'You're crazy'_…how sad is that? _That_…that will be in my mind forever, because…my mind…it _likes _reminding me of stuff, don't it? Same with you, yeah? Of course, she was saying that to _Harleen_, but…"

"Larry said he knew Harleen," I interrupted.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah he does."

"How?"

"Well…me, Larry and Harleen…we all went to school together…"

"You said you didn't do school."

"I didn't, but I never said I didn't _go_…I just said I didn't do it. My attendance was _appalling_." Dad laughed softly. "I couldn't be doing with it, not with all the bullies and crappy teachers. But anyway…we went to school together, that's how he knows her. Harleen, she was Miss Clever Clogs, the teacher's favourite, all that crap…"

"_Really_?"

"Oh, yeah. She wanted to study psychology. One day she came to me, with a book _all _about it, shoved it in my face, and she tells me, '_Look, Jack, one day I'll be doing all of this!_'"

His Harleen impression made me giggle, but dad put his finger on my mouth.

"Shhh, let me finish," he whispered. I stayed quiet. "I wasn't interested, and pushed it back into her face. She told me I worry too much, and that I need to lighten up. Huh, but anyway, she went on to study the goddamn thing, which how she met your mom, yeah? Remember me telling you about how mom nearly got a really good job as a psychologist but she gave it up? Yeah? Well, your mom and Harleen went to the same place to study it."

"Well, they didn't do very well, did they?" I laughed.

"Not particularly," Dad laughed with me. "I mean, your mom just _quit_, you know, when we moved in together, and Harleen, well…that's another story. But yeah, we've stayed good friends ever since. Me, Harleen, Larry…I wasn't into jobs much myself. Larry and his ex-wife managed to own this place but now it's shut down as a bar and now he just lives here _all on his own_. Me? Well, you _know _I can't work. My head mentally can't take it."

"So is that how you met mom? Through Harleen? You said you met her when you were a teenager."

"I did, yeah...They started studying it when they were about nineteen and they were friends at first and that's why we all started hanging out, right? Your mom…she _sparkled _with everything I wanted in a woman. Well, she did _then_…I'm not sure she'd be my type now. That's why I went off her a bit. I'll admit it, I had a little crush on Harleen years ago but…I never loved her. I still don't love her. I don't know if I even _like _her _now_…"

"She killed mom."

I felt my voice shaking, so I hid myself in dad's chest. Thank goodness he remained calm, starting to stroke my head.

"Shhh, it's fine, Shaylee," he whispered. "You said you wanted to know about her didn't you? Well now you know."

I sniffed. "But…but _why _did she shoot mom? Why, dad?"

He sighed. "I don't know, baby, I just don't know. She's…she's complicated. She's always come back to me when I need her…lately she's going a bit…_over the top_."

There were a few moments of silence as dad forced my head up to look at him. He looked at me, proudly, folding my hair back over my ears.

"You know what the best thing your mother ever did for me?" he asked, smiling.

"What?" I asked, curiously.

"She's gave me a little girl who is so clever, beautiful and…the spitting image of her."

"I'm not the spitting image of her."

"You _are_, Shaylee. You have her face. But…my eyes."

"I don't want to be like her."

"Not like how she was when she started drinking, of course you don't." Dad smirked at me. "Yeah, I knew from day one you'd be a daddy's girl. _All the way_. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you've always been like me, not counting all the crappy things in my mind I gave to you…but I mean, you're smart, funny, you take no shit, you're…you're certainly _my _daughter, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't want to be anyone else's."

"You're _too _kind. You know, Shaylee, you remind me of my mother." He smiled, showing his tongue in between his teeth. "Come 'ere…"

I beamed at him and tightly hugged him around the neck.

"Shaylee?" he said, after a few minutes.

"Yes, dad?"

"May I ask you to do something for me?"

"What?"

"You like drawing, don't you?" I nodded vigorously. "Well…I need some help. You know how I told you a few years ago about…_disguises_?"

I grinned at dad because I knew there was something exciting coming up. "Yes, I remember," I replied, nodding.

Dad sniggered. "Well…I'm having trouble. I'm _no good _with a pen…so, I thought maybe you could design something for me?"

I squealed in excitement as dad laughed at me jumping up and down on the bed. "What, what, what?" I asked, eagerly.

"Playing cards…you know them, right?"

"Yes, I used to play with them with Chase at lunchtimes."

"Well…you know how there's cards like the King, Queen, Jack and so forth? People use them all the time. Do people ever use Joker cards?"

"We never use them."

"Exactly! So…" Dad held my chin as his smirk became wider, "I want you to design a cool one of those for me. One that looks so cool people would actually use them."

I gasped in delight. "Okay, dad! I'm sure I'll come up with something."

"_Good girl_!" Dad said, winking at me. "Might as well get started. Nothing _better _to do, is there?"

I leaped off the bed and in two seconds flat got out my drawing things from my case. I sat myself down at the little desk at the side, where dad's gun was still lying.

As I began to draw, I said to dad, "What is for, dad, anyway?"

"It's for, uh…_future reference_."

I jumped a mile as dad burst into maniacal laughter.


	8. Chapter 7-Voices, Playing Cards&Hair Dye

*****Chapter 7 is here! I HAVE JUST RECENTLY UPDATED THIS SO MORE THINGS MADE SENSE (as well as spelling and grammar issues) BECAUSE READING IT BACK IT DIDN'T :P Thanks everyone for the patience, been so caught up with school work I've barely had time on this! :P Again, a long chapter, about the same length as the last. But, like I said, there's a lot of things I have to put in every chapter, as they will make sense later on the story...hopefully XD*****

**Hope you like, and thank you for reading! :D*********

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Voices, Playing Cards &amp; Hair Dye<strong>

I'll never forget those next few days we spent in Joey's Tavern.

I won't lie to you, it was nice being away from our confined flat for a while, but this wasn't much different. Dad and I struggled for space in that little spare bedroom, which is why dad spent most of his time in the den area, Larry's equivalent to a living room.

You could tell this tavern was really old: the walls were rusty at every corner, you could easily pick off the plaster and make it magically disappear in your fingers by simply rubbing it away. If you took a picture of the bar area, it would make a beautiful historical portrait. Larry allowed me to go in the bar area, but was strict on the fact I couldn't touch the alcohol. I don't know why. I was a _kid_, was he really concerned I was going to sneakily try and taste some of the liquor?

I wouldn't dare touch it. Not after what it did to mom.

Like I said, I'm _not _stupid.

Dad would be up at around 9 o'clock every morning, simply to go and watch the news in the other room. He would leave me peacefully sleeping, but I knew he had awoken every morning because I heard him noisily getting changed before leaving the room and blasting the television in the den area. I soon nestled straight back to sleep though.

The first night we stayed there, I awakened very late the next morning, as I'd been up late drawing those designs for dad. I fluttered my eyes open to be slightly blinded by the sun that was gaping through the flowery-patterned curtains from the miniature window above the bed. Like a zombie rising from the grave, I sat up and ruffled my greasy hair. The first thing I saw when I sat up was the clock above the door in front of me, which read 11:15am. At first I panicked, but then I realised: we weren't at home. It was also summer vacation, so it was okay to sleep right through the morning hours.

With a loud thud, I slumped onto my back again and roughly pulled the covers over me. I turned on my side to see my drawing pad and pens were still in their places on the desk, but dad's gun had vanished. I listened out for him, but all I could hear was the TV softly humming from down the corridor. Occasionally I heard cluttering down the stairs, but apart from that, nothing. Just quietness.

It was very strange. I wasn't used to waking up and my mornings be so noiseless. I always expected to wake up to our TV booming and mom yelling about something or other and dad's friendly awakening call.

I thought about mom. I thought back to when I was a little girl and how much fun we had before she became an alcoholic. Before she became a neglecting monster. I remembered the few things she did right, like getting dad to quit smoking heavily and then and again asking if I was okay when I was upset. I tried desperately to think of her laugh (which was extremely difficult because mom rarely laughed). I was reminded of a sweet and high-pitched giggle, and how she often burst into her laughter, just like I did. I recalled dad saying how much I look like her. Thinking about it now, yeah, I do look like her a lot. We have the same pale skin complexion and natural hair colour and the facial features like the nose and our eyebrows. I much preferred what I had off dad though: the eyes and the thickness of my hair and our identical smiles.

Then I saw a striking image: mom lifting a three year old child of her feet and spinning her around in circles, laughing at her little daughter giggling and squealing at the top her lungs.

Then it flashed back to a few days ago: when mom came into my room, banging on my door and shouting at me.

I felt an agonising pain in my heart.

That's when I started to cry.

_Oh, Shaylee, for goodness sake, why are you crying recalling what your mother was like? She was a drunk who neglected you and cared more about your dad even though he beat her. You saw him beat her, grab her by the throat, you even saw him threatening her, spitting her in face._

"He was doing it for _me_," I replied, furiously to the voice in my head, gritting my teeth.

_You even said how much she deserved it. She was nothing more than a terrible mother. _

"No…" I whispered to the voice in my head, grasping onto the bed sheets in frustration. "No…stop it."

_She was meant to be your mother, and all she did was yell. You even said so yourself how much of a monster she was._

"She still cared."

_She never cared about you._

"Yes she did, she cared…she just…didn't know how to show it. Now shut up."

All of a sudden, I hid myself under the covers and buried my head in the pillow, smelling dad's body odour on the sheets. I felt a tear rolling.

"Go away, go away, _go away_," I whispered, harshly, to no one in particular.

I had to compose myself by squeezing my eyes shut and taking deep breaths, almost like I was meditating. I felt so silly and embarrassed, but, I couldn't stand hearing voices. Especially hearing ones that had no clue about what I was going through.

"They're _not _real, they're _not_ real," I told myself, as I continued to sigh heavily. I frantically thought about what dad had said to me, just the morning before. "They're there to make your life a _misery_, Shaylee, don't _listen_. Don't listen, don't listen, don't _listen_…"

The voice weakened the more I ignored it and banged my head against the pillow. It sounded like it was losing signal on a radio, until it eventually drained out of my brain completely. I took several deep breaths before I removed myself from under the sheets, my hair sticking up crazily. I angrily wiped my tears from my face and sat crossed legged on top of the bed, starting to fidget with my hands. I was still panting hard, determined to keep the anger inside. I unusually didn't see red this time, probably because there was no deafening noises arguing this time, it was just the one.

By the time I had more or less calmed myself, the clock read 12pm. I could still feel a tint of frustration inside of me, my head still very quietly humming.

I thought of the best solution to cheer my mood: Dad.

I carefully started walking out of the small room, slowly creaking the door open to reveal the corridor in Larry's tavern. I tiptoed through the soft carpet, following the noise of the television, which I knew would lead to dad. I was so relieved Larry wasn't around, I would hate it if he saw me with my red eyes and looking such a mess with my untidy hair.

I nervously opened the door to the den area, where dad was buried in a giant beanbag, his eyes fixated on what appeared to be a thrilling action movie on the screen. He looked so peaceful and calm I didn't want to disturb him, but I had no choice when I closed the door and he darted his head towards me, who stood stiff against the door.

"Ahh, _morning_, sunshine!" he exclaimed, sitting up. "Or should I say, _afternoon_?"

My mind suddenly couldn't connect with my mouth and I was unable to mutter any words. It was like a flash back to two years ago, that rainy day in February where I used a gun for the first time and I struggled to talk to dad about it.

Dad perked his head up when he saw me staring down at my fumbling hands.

"Hmm, Shaylee, do I sense…_unhappiness_?" he asked. I managed to nod, slowly, but I kept my head to the floor. "What's the matter, beautiful, huh?"

I looked back up at dad, who had now stood up and had started walking towards me, until he was towering above me like a Gotham skyscraper.

"Uhh…" I mumbled.

Dad kneeled down to my level. "What's this?" he asked, softly, touching underneath my eyes. I wanted to scream when he flicked a small tear off my face. "Have you been crying?"

"No." I tried to sound convincing, but I failed miserably.

Dad raised his eyebrows at me with disbelief. "What have I told you, baby?" he said. My heart skipped a beat when he said that, as I thought he was going to be angry at me for lying.

"Uhh…I…" I stammered.

"I've told you before. It's okay to be scared and _to cry _sometimes, isn't it?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. I nodded back at him, staring at my fingers that were twiddling around with each other.

"Shaylee, look at me," Dad said, sharply. I immediately did as I was told. "Now, tell daddy what's wrong, hmm?"

Luckily, a kind smile appeared on his lips. Even though he practically had me up against the door, he didn't frighten me. He was my father, he would _never _hurt me.

"It was…" I whispered. "I heard…I heard voices."

Dad's smile faded instantly as his forehead creased with worry. "What?"

"Yeah…yeah…but it's okay…it wasn't _as bad_ this time, it was only one…and it was quiet…I soon got rid of it."

I smiled at him but his mood wasn't lightened. "Oh my God…" he whispered.

"Dad, I'm fine…"

"No, honey, no…this…this isn't good."

"It was worse yesterday. It was louder."

"Maybe so, but…oh my _god_…you're a _child_. You shouldn't be hearing _anything_. Even _I _didn't when I was your age."

"Really?"

"Yes, mine started when I was…ah, I was about fifteen, sixteen…and _that's _bad. Shaylee, you're _ten_…"

"But I'm okay."

Dad sighed as he stood up again. He paced slowly around the room, angrily switching the TV off, before lunging back onto the beanbag and putting his hands over his face.

I felt so much pain seeing him like that, especially because I thought I was to blame. Once again, dad's mood changed so rapidly, making me conscious of him. I walked over and when I reached him, I delicately placed my shaking hand on his arm, making him sigh.

"Dad, please don't be angry…" I sounded so pathetic, but I meant it.

"I'm not angry," he answered, into his hands.

I removed my hand and kneeled down next to the beanbag, looking down at my lap.

"Dad, we're…we're not at home. You can't act like this when we're in someone else's home."

"I know, I know…you're right…"

"Is it going to get worse?" I asked him.

Dad sighed again before finally removing his hands from his face. "I…I don't know, darlin', I really don't know. God, I feel like this is _my _fault…"

I gasped in horror. "It's not your fault, dad!"

"I gave you it, and I…_hate _myself for it." Dad's voice grew more and more deep and dangerous as he continued. "You don't…deserve it. I mean, the first time_ I _heard voices, I was a teenager, it was just after…" He paused as his voice trailed off into sadness. That's when he finally looked at me in the eyes. "…just after my mom died. I wanted to rot away in a _black hole_, and they were telling me to do it…but I didn't. My father was _such _a heartless bastard…telling me to get over it…to grow up and be a man. That's when it happened. The night after my mom died, he approached me…_laughing_…and took off his belt, and beat me until the sun came up. He tells me it's my fault. He tells me I caused too much stress for my mother." Dad shook his head in disgust. "That beating was what triggered it. I mean, I'd heard _a little bit _before, but…_fuck_, I still hear him today. But that's not the point, my darling, the point _is_…this is happening to you _too quickly_…"

"Maybe I should stop thinking so much then, dad."

He paused, and then started patting his lap. "Come on, come sit with your old man."

I leaped up and excitedly place myself on his lap. I beamed at him, and dad managed to form a small little grin.

"I'll be okay," I said, nodding my head. I tried to quickly get off the subject as I despised to see dad so stressed.

Dad stroked my cheek, smiling. "Just promise me, whenever you hear something, don't listen to it…"

"Never," I said. "I didn't listen to this one. It spoke a lot of nonsense anyway."

"Well done, sweetheart. But if this is still happening, and it gets worse, don't ignore it. Tell me. Okay? I don't want this happening to you _all the time_. Gotta make sure my Shaylee is okay, haven't I?"

I grinned happily at him and without thinking, I launched myself around his neck, making him groan and splutter into giggles.

"Hey, hey, watch it…" he said, nudging me off him.

"Sorry."

"Nah, I'm _okay_. Looks like you're gonna have a little fight in you when you're older. I like that."

Dad winked at me before we both started laughing again. I felt so relieved to hear him laughing again, it was like magical music in my ears.

I sighed to calm myself down, as dad did the same.

"Daddy?" I squeaked.

"Yes, princess?"

"You still won't send me to a doctor, right? Because I don't want to."

"Of course I won't," Dad laughed. "My mother took me one time when I was a young lad…because I _was _young _once_, Shaylee…and that's when they found that crappy schizophrenia…"

"What _is _that, anyway?"

"All in good time," Dad said, smiling. "You'll know _all in good time_. They said not to worry because it would start developing more when I grew older, and by that I mean, _much_ older, _but_, it happened when I was a teenager and they got it _wrong_. They were wrong about my ADHD too, saying it wasn't _serious_, but it clearly was, wasn't it?"

I nodded my head, though I didn't fully understand. "So…it's only special people like us who hear voices, then, dad?"

"Exactly right, honey."

Right at that moment, we both jumped upon hearing a loud crash coming from down the stairs. It sounded like glass shattering. I backed off instantly when I realised I had been clinging onto dad in shock. Dad looked at me and burst out laughing.

"What the _hell _is he doing down there?" he exclaimed, referring to Larry.

"What _has _he been doing, dad?" I asked.

"Oh, just…cleaning and dusting and all sorts of boring things like that," Dad said, looking slightly disappointed. "We sat and had breakfast together, and he showed me around while you were still fast asleep, and he said I could watch any of his movies if I wanted, so…I _did_. He went back to clean downstairs."

"But…no one uses that bit anymore."

"Exactly! Funny guy, that Larry." Dad started laughing again as he stood up so quickly he nearly fell over his own feet, making him laugh even harder.

"Careful, dad!" I laughed, as I ran to him, trying to catch him.

"Look at me, falling over, huh?" Dad snickered. "Such a _clown_, aren't I? Come on, let's see what he's up to. Maybe we can get you some food."

"Aw, yes, I'm _starving_!" I beamed.

Dad then imitated the shattering glass we heard, wiggling his hands about and making loud swishing noises, making me laugh like an idiot. We both headed out of the room, and dad did a hilarious dance as he tiptoed down the stairs. I had to be careful not to tumble down, as I was laughing so much at dad, clutching my stomach and leaning over as I was walking down. Dad burst into his hysterical laughter again as we made our way down to the bottom.

"Feel better now, little one?" he asked, with a stupid grin on his face as we reached the bottom.

"Much better, thank you," I answered, still giggling.

Dad was like a magician, he could make my feelings just change in an instant. I suddenly really felt relaxed and happy, my mind deleting the fact I'd had a little breakdown and had been crying just a few minutes before.

That's one of the biggest reasons I loved my father so much. He knew exactly how I was feeling the minute I stepped through the door. He could take one look at me and know exactly what to say and do. In that intelligent mind of his, he could come up with a solution to make me smile, even if the situation was so horrible. It's nice having someone who knows you better than yourself. I could say the same thing about me too, I _always _knew what was on his mind. Like I explained before, I usually knew if he was planning something, if he had a crafty trick up his sleeve, but usually I knew when he was stressed or angry, and I loathed it so much when he was. It was the father I didn't like to see. The father I loved to see was that carefree, crafty man who always made me smile and feel safe, even if the situation was the most dangerous you could get.

We entered the downstairs bar area to find Larry on his hands and knees, carefully dusting up some glass into a dustpan and brush. A mop was leaning on the bar, along with a bucket, almost overflowing with bubbly water. He looked up at us, as he was busy slaving away. Dad carelessly splashed through the spilled alcohol on the floor, but I didn't dare step in it with my bare feet.

"Oh, hi, Jack…Shaylee," he groaned, sweeping some more.

"What's happened here, man?" Dad laughed.

"Ah, I just…I just dropped a bottle of vodka."

"Ha, not much different from being at home after all, is it, Shay?" Dad said to me, by his side. We both giggled at the joke, but Larry wasn't as amused.

"Gonna take me ages to mop up all of this," he complained. "Here, Jack, will you help?"

Dad scoffed. "Me, _mopping_? Come on, man, you know me. I _can't _do it."

"Very funny, Jack. All you have to do is mop up the liquor on the floor while I deal with this shit."

Dad rolled his eyes and looked at me, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

"I'll do it," I said, although I didn't intend to be helpful.

"Oh, Shaylee, that would be brilliant," Larry said, as he cautiously stood up, balancing the glass-infested dustpan and brush in his hand. He very gingerly walked over to the bin on the far end of the room, as I grabbed the mop that was leaning on the bar and slammed the end down on the floor.

"Are you actually going to do that?" Dad sounded totally gobsmacked.

I grinned up at him. "Uh, I _could_…" I said.

Dad grinned just like me. "I sense lies in you, little one…" he laughed.

Larry returned, dusting his hands off. He was taken aback when he saw me smirking at him and gripping the mop.

"Well, uh, Shaylee…" he said, "do you want to…?"

"Not really," I replied, making dad burst into harsh giggles. "I've forgotten how."

I was purposely being funny with him, just because I felt like it. Dad had gotten me into such a mischievous mood, my mind sparkled with ideas to be awkward.

Larry started laughing too, put his hands on his hips. "You know, you could have just said that you didn't want to, you know," he said, trying to sound as kind as possible.

"I know," I smiled pleasantly at Larry. I casually handed him the mop, before nuzzling up on dad's arm. Still cackling, he placed his arm around my shoulder, making me cuddle closer and we laughed harmoniously. It sounded so beautiful even Larry started to join in.

"Pair of nutters, you two," he laughed, as he began to dip the mop in the bucket and clean up the spilled alcohol, covering the floor.

"I'm not mad, am I, dad?" I asked, beaming up at him.

"_No_…not really, Shaylee," Dad replied, winking at me. "But _everyone's _a bit crazy sometimes, aren't they?"

"Anyway, you had a long sleep, didn't ya, Shaylee?" Larry said, as he continued to wipe the floor. "Was that bed comfy enough for you?"

"Oh yes, it was great, thank you," I said.

"Oh good, oh good."

"Anyway, Larry," Dad addressed him, removing his arm from around my shoulders. "Could we get Shaylee some food maybe? Starving, aren't ya, honey?"

I nodded. Larry put the mop to one side as he looked our way.

"I don't see why not," he said, rubbing his hands together. "You ready to eat lunch yet, Jack?"

"Uhh…yeah, go on then. Be a…_great _opportunity to tell you what I found out this morning."

I widened my eyes at dad, whose grin remained wide on his lips.

"Go get dressed then, lazy bones," he said to me, ruffling my hair.

"Yeah, I'll call you when it's ready, guys," Larry said.

"Okay, well _I_…I'll just…go for a cigarette," Dad sighed as he nudged me to run along.

I ran upstairs like lightning and burst into our spare bedroom, instantly throwing my clothes off and dressing myself in my usual skull-decorated black and purple joggers.

Once I was dressed and made my hair look fairly decent, I explored the upstairs area, looking out for anything interesting. In the den area, the room with a large television, comfy beanbags and a shelf-full of DVDs, I discovered a range of old photos neatly lined on top of a table. I examined them closer, the first one was very old, showing a picture of what seemed like a young Larry standing outside the tavern, which looked much grander than the one I was in at the moment, shaking another man's hand and grinning widely at the camera. Next to that was an even older photo that was so blurry it took me a while to figure it out. I realised it was Larry again, but this time he looked even younger, maybe around fourteen years old. He had his arm around another boy, while a blonde-haired girl with large blue eyes leaned on this other boy, smiling brightly at the camera. I was so intrigued, like any ten year old would be, that I picked up the photo in its frame, sat slowly on the carpet and observed the photo for a while.

That other boy looked an awful lot like dad.

It didn't take long for dad to enter the room. I perked my head up at him, as he was putting away his lighter in his pocket. I felt a little disappointed he wasn't wearing one of those super cool purple coats with millions of different pockets inside and out. He just looked completely normal that day, with his hair just as scruffy as his jeans and his overly-creased t-shirt that was way too small for him.

"What's that, Shay?" he asked, when he came in.

"Some photo Larry keeps in here," I replied. I displayed it to him, pointing at the picture. "Dad, is that _you_?"

Dad looked interested and fixed his eyes on the picture as he walked over and took it off me. He stared at it for a while, before he let out a little laugh.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that's me."

He sat next to me, giving me it back. I once again studied it closely.

"And that's Larry?" I asked, pointing.

"Yeah," Dad laughed.

"Who's the girl?" I looked at dad curiously, who sighed.

"That's…that's Harleen," he said, quietly.

"_Is it_?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah, this…this was a _long time _ago, though, Shaylee," Dad explained, taking it off me again. "Can't believe he still has this picture. This was in ninth grade and we had to take a picture for a project. Yeah, I remember. We never finished that silly assignment." We both giggled. "But yeah, back in those days…"

"You don't look very happy dad," I laughed.

"Hey, when do I _ever _look happy on a picture? You know I _hate _photos. _They_ look happy, though, don't they?"

"I can't believe that's Harleen," I said, shaking my head.

"Me neither," Dad said, a little sadly. I fixed my eyes on his awkward expression. "She was so different then. Now she's…"

"Crazy?"

"More than that."

There was a short silence before dad suddenly clapped his hands, enthusiastically.

"Right," he said, standing up, "I'm uh, going to watch a movie for a bit, honey. You wanna watch?"

I stood up and put the photo down where I found it, as I thought. "Uhh.." I then had a light-bulb moment. "No, dad, actually…I'd rather…I want to carry on with those designs."

Dad grinned widely at me. "Okay then, you do that," he said, pinching my cheek, affectionately. "I'll call when ya food's ready."

The night before I had already designed one card and was halfway through another one. Both were very different, but they were still very similar. I decided to use black, purple and red only, not just because they were my favourite colours, but, it would make the cards seem more traditional as well as make them all look like they were part of the same family.

The one I had sketched the night before was all-black, which I sketched and coloured with my best thick-ink pen. To design a traditional jester in the middle of the card would have been so boring, so I decided to spice it up a bit. I thought about dad and his personality, and I thought, he's a little bit of a joker himself, which gave me a brilliant idea.

I had outlined a devil-kind of creature that was clutching onto his stomach and laughing with pure delight. His legs were shaped like he was sitting on an invisible chair and on his back I sketched a long, pointy tail that looked a devil's. Chase had shown me how to draw that, as one time we had to draw the comparison of Heaven and Hell, and during the lunch break, Chase had shown me how to draw an awesome devil's tail. Miss Woodville was so impressed, for once. On top of the joyous creature, I placed a comical jester's hat on his head, so it did look like a bit of a joker, and then I tried my best to detail his face, making him look above to the heavens and thank God life was such a joke, and I made his face look middle-aged, while also giving it a tint of evilness. Finally, in large capital letters, I wrote 'Joker' down both sides of the paper, like traditional playing cards have. This was a creature you didn't want to curse you. I was so pleased when I finished it, that immediately I began the next one, but as I've said, I did half, as dad nagged me to go to bed, as "a little girl needs her beauty sleep."

So for an hour, as dad tried to entertain himself with a movie, and Larry was making me some food, I finished off my other design, which I decided, I was going to scrap the rule about using only the three colours, because I remembered Chase told me that if you're drawing something traditional, it's always 'nostalgic' to use familiar colours. I didn't much of that, but I decided to give it a shot.

When I drew my imagination onto a page, this was when my life and my mind were the calmest it ever was. I suppose it was because I was concentrating and taken to my own far away world, a world that wasn't as crazy as the real one I lived in. The world I was taken to while I was drawing was somewhere where I could just be a normal kid, a normal little girl who had no troubles, who had no stupid things racking inside her head, who had a mother who could be a best friend and who had more than one friend she could share her creativity with. It wasn't just when I was drawing, it was most nights, where I lied down in bed and thought about what it would be like if I didn't have all the crazy things I had in my life. Even now as a young adult, I _still _like to imagine this different world.

One things for sure, though, no matter what world I flew to in my mind, my father would remain the same.

I was just finishing off my second design, when dad snuck into the room, and waited, peeping through the marginally-opened door. I was so captivated I didn't notice him until he coughed to get my attention.

"Oh, hi, daddy," I greeted, smiling at him.

"How's Da Vinci doin', then?" he chuckled.

I laughed. "Great, thank you."

"I _hate _to interrupt an artist at work, but your lunch is ready, darlin'."

I beamed excitedly and flew from my chair. I almost knocked dad over as I dashed past him, through the corridor and down the stairs. I stopped in my tracks when I saw Larry laying out plates of prepared meals one of the tables in the bar area. Dad joined me, and placed his hand on my shoulder as I continued to stare at the meals, in awe. I swear I could also feel my mouth watering like a starving dog.

"What's the matter, Shaylee?" Dad asked, quietly.

I turned around in surprise. "Nothing, nothing…" I replied. "It's just…"

"I know, nice to have _proper _food, isn't it?" Dad said, strolling over to the table.

I followed him quickly and before I knew it, the three of us began eating the delicious burger and fries that Larry had made for us. I ferociously gnawed upon the food, like I was a starving child, well, because I _was _a starving child. I hadn't eaten a proper meal for days, and I'd barely eaten anything the day before, as it was hectic with our escape to the city. Larry, as it turned out, was an excellent cook. Well, it was hardly surprising he could cook this well because he did own the place and when it was a business he obviously fed a lot of mouths. It was like heaven to me since I barely ate three meals a day. This was one of the few things I was looking forward to during our little stay.

Dad giggled at me as I happily chewed upon my meal. "Calm down, Shay!" he laughed. "You'll give yourself indigestion. You _don't want that_, do you?"

"No, dad," I replied, with my mouth full. I quickly gulped down. "But I'm just so hungry."

"I'm not surprised," Dad said, winking at me, before munching on another fry.

"So Jack," said Larry, grinning. "What was this amazing story you heard this morning, then?"

"Ahh, yes," Dad said, smirking and wiping his hands. "On the news this morning," he began, as he looked directly at me, who leaned forward to listen, "there was this story that this man in Gotham Town was found dead near this estate, just outside his house, in fact, in the middle of nowhere." I grinned as I remembered the badass scene that occurred the day before. "They _don't know_ how it happened, but he was found dead near his house…and _his wife _and _his son _found him…when they came back from shopping, and _so_, they called the police, _but_, they have _no idea _what happened." Dad grew more excited in the next part. "He was _showing blood everywhere_, so they were pretty certain he'd been _killed_ by...somebody. Probably _shot down, _from what they guessed. They have no witnesses, which is _unbelievable_…amazing how no one saw it."

"Aw, man!" Larry said. "The police are so crap they'll never find out!"

"No, no they _won't_."

I giggled under my breath when dad winked at me.

"So what the bastards going to do about it?" Larry asked. "Just gonna let yet another random guy be killed and nothing be done?"

"Well they can't exactly do much," I said. "His wife and son will probably be searching around the whole town with machine guns, so the guy who killed him better watch out."

Dad smirked at me. "Not if he kills them first," he said, waggling his finger at me. "The guy sounds like a nasty piece of work. Probably a bit _crazy_."

"Not as crazy as you, eh, Jack?" Larry laughed.

"Hmm…of course not," Dad replied. "But the guy probably had a _reason_ for doing it. That's what the police don't get. People do these things for a reason…well _most _of time…"

"Wonder what that guy's reason was?"

"Probably a damn good one."

"So what's going to happen to that man's family, dad?" I asked.

"Well…I don't know, Shaylee," Dad answered. "Different families grieve in different ways. They said on the news they're going, to…uh, 'investigate' the case, but, what can they investigate? _No one _has an idea. The guy's wife could have done it for all we know. Yeah, how will they know it was a guy who did it, anyway? Because that's probably what they're thinking."

"Gotham's full of judgemental pricks, we know that, Jack," Larry said.

There were few moments of silence, during which I looked awkwardly around the tavern. I did feel a little awkward sitting round a table with dad and a guy I'd only known a day. I bet it's a bit awkward for any little girl sitting around and eating with two adult males, even if one of them was their dad.

After a few moments, I decided to speak up. "Dad?" He looked at me questionably, taking a bite out of his lettuce-filled burger. "Was there anything on the news about Harleen? You know, what's happened to her and what's been done about mom?"

Larry looked at dad, awkwardly, as dad swallowed and slowly put down his food. He exchanged glances from us both, ruffling his hair, as he tried to come out with something.

"Well, yeah, Shay," he mumbled, finally.

"What did they say?" I asked, eagerly.

"You'll never guess what, pal," Dad said to Larry.

"What? What's happened to her?" Larry asked, sounding slightly worried.

"You know that Arkham place?"

"The _mental asylum_?"

"For the criminally insane."

"What?" Larry paused as he stared at dad. "She hasn't been sent there, has she?" Dad nodded slowly, glancing down at his plate of food. Larry let out a surprised laugh. "You're not _serious_?"

"What's an asylum?" I asked, puzzled.

"It's this place where they send people who are, well…" Larry's voice trailed as he looked at dad, for help.

"For people who are crazy, honey," Dad finished. "Not just a crazy personality, but, like…crazy in their minds."

"Oh. So, she's been sent there because she's crazy?" I questioned.

"Yeah. 'Criminally insane.' Took them a while to figure _that one _out," Dad said. "But, yeah, she pleaded guilty to…you know…"

"To shooting her," Larry finished.

"_Yeah_…and so they sent her to Arkham because they've _finally _realised she's turning insane."

"Don't know what's happened to that girl," Larry said, shaking his head. "What's driven her mad, anyway?"

"_God knows_."

I desperately tried to lighten the mood. "Probably because she hung around with _you_, dad, that drove her crazy."

Larry burst out laughing, almost choking on a fry, which made both me and dad crack up.

"Wow, she's definitely _your _kid, Jack!" he chuckled. "Always cracking jokes."

"Yeah, she is," Dad smiled at me. "Such a joker. Don't wanna cross Shaylee Jane. She's done dangerous things before now." My heart skipped a beat, but I relaxed as dad gave me a cheeky wink, assuring me he wasn't about to spill any stories about some of my horrific little incidents. He paused, before going back into serious-mode. "They say they're still looking for my whereabouts. Well, they're gonna have a hard time!"

"Are you sure they won't find us?" I asked dad.

"Of course they won't, baby girl," Dad said, patting my arm, gently. "No one ever comes here anymore. Why would someone visit a closed tavern? Besides, they'll expect to be finding us in the town, which is why we came here, to the city. I _knew _I could count on Larry."

I laughed, too, as we all finished our meals off. I didn't leave a crumb, but it did fill me up from head to toe. Dad was the last to finish, as he took his time. He was constantly glancing up at his mind, again, carefully eating his meal. Larry took my plate and his and started to tidy up as dad finished off. Dad let out a gigantic burp when he finished, making us both laugh, hysterically.

Larry came over, laughing just as hard. "Enjoy that, man?" he asked, as he took his plate.

"_Marvellous_," Dad said, grinning widely. "Hey, pal?" Larry turned around to face him. "You wanna go out? I'm _so bored _and I need _something _to do…"

Larry sighed. "Jack you _know _we can't."

"I need to get back into the swing, pal," Dad said. "And by the looks of things, _you_ need to, too."

"What about Shaylee?"

"I'll be fine," I said, reassuringly. I just wanted to head back to my picture. "I've been left alone loads of times."

"I'm a bit concerned just leaving a ten year old here on her own, especially when the front door is dodgy."

"I'll be _fine_. I'm not little anymore."

"I don't know…"

"Why do you worry so much?" I chuckled.

"He was never usually like this, Shay," Dad cut in. "He used to be the big man around here. Even more so than me, he hasn't been recently. _Strange_, isn't it?"

I looked at Larry, questionably. No one said anything for a while, as Larry sighed and put dad's plate away. I looked back at dad, wanting an explanation. He immediately read my thoughts.

"I'll tell ya some other time, baby," he whispered.

The day continued with me finishing off that design. I ended up using yellow, a colour I _never _used as it was too bright for my liking, but I had to use it to make the jester look sneaky. I took inspiration from another one of Chase's drawings he'd shared with me. He drew his dad holding a large gun in his right hand, bursting flames from the end. He drew his dad looking like a monster, instead I drew a mischievous-looking jester holding it, coloured in the purest red and yellow, outlined with black and a black jester's hat. Once again, I wrote the words 'Joker' down the side, but this time, one black and one red. I made the jester's expression one of pure enjoyment, a bit like the first card.

Dad and Larry did go out, eventually, but only because dad said he'd help do the shopping, as Larry needed to buy more food for us both over the next few days. Dad went dressed in his purple coat and a purple checkered tie and even used some of Larry's hair gel to make his hair look different so it was harder to identify him. Thankfully, he didn't get caught, which was such a relief to me, because that was the only thing that made me worry. That one day dad would be caught.

Larry locked the door the best he could and put a chair in front of our spare bedroom, so I'd be safe. They returned later on, they didn't just have the shopping. Dad came in the room to find me lying on the bed and cuddling onto the teddy bear that was randomly in there. He slammed down $50 in my hand and told me to keep it. Nothing else. There was no explanation or anything. I made the pretty obvious conclusion that he and Larry had stolen it.

My Joker card designs developed over the next few days. Dad said he didn't want to see them until I was completely satisfied. Because I was an awkward little kid, I wanted to show him at least four different ones. The two I already talked about, well, I redid them many times until it looked perfect. For once, I tried to use techniques I'd learnt in school. We'd learnt about shading, so I tried to use that. I wasn't completely oblivious in school, you know. When I wanted to know, I did take things in (reading and writing _does not _count). But then again, those things were only in art lessons.

It was lucky it was summer vacation at that time. It didn't even matter, because even if I was in school at that time I wouldn't care about being away for a few weeks or so. They could give me all the detentions in the world. I was hiding in the City for my own safety. If the school ever asked why, I'd just get dad to talk to them. Then they wouldn't question ever again.

I also got to know Larry a bit more. He wasn't so bad, he was dad's friend, although dad barely talked to him our whole stay. He mostly only talked to him when we sat around the table and ate, or when they had a cigarette outside, or if they did actually go out into the City together. Dad mostly stayed with me, as always entertaining me with his stories and jokes. We tried not to speak about mom. The thought of her just made me feel this pain that I didn't want to feel.

When dad took his nightly break outside to have several cigarettes (which frankly annoyed me), I took the opportunity to get to know Larry, as I wasn't scared of him anymore. He wasn't as intimidating as I'd remembered on the first day I saw him, he didn't even look as crummy as I'd remembered, either.

"What was this place like when it was a proper tavern?" I asked him, one evening in the den area.

"I really enjoyed it," he told me. "Every day people would come in and it's _such _a great feeling when people enjoy food you cook yourself. Your dad used to come down here sometimes, back when we were lads."

"So why did you stop it then?" I asked.

"Well, we had to close it down because, well, me and my wife at the time…we were arguing."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. We just lost money anyway. We couldn't afford to run it, which led to arguments. Of course, marriage has arguments, but it seemed to be constant with us, about _everything_."

"A bit like _my _mom and dad," I sighed.

"I couldn't run it without her," Larry continued, "and we ended up getting divorced…"

"Why?"

Larry sighed. "You're too young to know. Maybe your dad can tell you when you're older."

"Was it anything to do with dad? That you broke up?"

"Oh no, not at all. But like I said, you'll understand when you're older."

I decided not to question him anymore after that, as it got very awkward indeed. It did make me especially curious, though, so I kept it stored in my mind, to ask dad. Surely he would know.

We'd been staying there for four days, and all was well so far. Nobody found us, and dad checked the news every morning to check the police's progress. Every morning was the same, there was no success in finding the whereabouts of Jack Napier, until the point they said he'd mysteriously gone missing. The car we'd stolen remained parked outside the tavern. There was one point, someone knocked on the door and questioned why a car, especially one with a window smashed off, was casually parked in a 'No Parking' area. Cheek of the man! Who was he? He wasn't the police, he had no right. A bit like that man dad shot the say we made our getaway. Larry gave that guy a piece of his mind. It would have been idiotic if dad had talked to him, because then we really would have been discovered. Larry handled it really well, though, although he wasn't as scary as dad was, but he still was downright intimidating and sneaky with him, almost like he'd done it many times before.

Dad was so clever. Staying in what was actually the quietest and most deserted part of the City. Well, it was then. I bet at one it was crowded with people, especially when Joey's was still a business.

Whenever dad went out to do something, he used one of his disguises. Not just those weird purple coats and ties, but sometimes he used Larry's clothes, without asking of course, and pretended to be him, wearing one of his jackets and baseball caps and constantly gelling his hair a different style. He looked totally different, it almost like _was _someone else.

I didn't hear any voices since that morning. Dad managed to keep me calm and happy the whole time, which made me more relaxed. I didn't get angry, not once, luckily for Larry. There was no _need _to be angry. Nothing was yelling at me, no one was bossing me around, I could just relax and mind my own business. Although, weirdly, sometimes I horribly missed seeing action. I longed to see dad back in the swing of things, seeing and taking in his comebacks and amazing points of view. I didn't worry, though, as I knew it would all return when we would go back to Gotham Town.

On the fourth night, before we went to sleep, I had just finished drawing yet again, but this time, I was fully confident with my finished designs. Dad burst into our spare room, after coming back from a long time in the bathroom. I had used it just before him, to use Larry's amazing shower. It was small, but the thing blasted you in the face. It was so immense.

"You were a long time," I said, when he came in.

"Ah, Shay, you _know _me. Always a _long time _in the bathroom. Had to get this stupid gel out of my hair. Decided I'm not going to use it anymore. Time for something _different_."

He chucked his shoes off and flung himself on the bed, with a huge sigh. I turned myself around on the desk chair to face him. Dad was pulling this creepy smile as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Are you okay, daddy?" I asked, sweetly.

"Yeah," he answered, plainly. "Just…just having a little _thought_."

I shuffled in my chair. "What are you thinking?"

He paused. "Shay, do you ever feel like…something's…taking over you?"

My heart stopped. "W-What you mean?"

"You see, I'm not…I'm _not alone_. There's something…some_one_ in me wanting to come out-t. I don't know what it is, or who it is…_but_, it's…it's interesting. I don't know, ever since…that day…that day your mom was shot…I've been feeling a bit…I don't know. Different. Have I been acting different, my darlin'?"

"Uhh, I-I don't think you have," I stuttered.

"Hmmm. I don't know. Maybe it's my head messing me up. It's probably _all _a practical joke my mind is playing on me."

It took me a while to let this curious situation sink in.

But I decided not to talk about it. It scared me a little bit.

"Dad…"

"Yes, precious?"

"I-I've finished my drawings you wanted me to do."

I lifted up the four pieces of paper with a hopeful smile. A smirk slowly appeared on dad's lips as he outstretched his arm.

"Can I see?" he asked, excitedly, his voice becoming high-pitched.

I immediately got out of my seat and slowly handed the pictures to dad, who examined them. I sat on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for his response. He sat still for a while, tracing my first drawing with his finger. I waited nervously, I couldn't tell what he was thinking because his face was just blank.

Then he finally looked at me, still giving nothing away.

"Hmm, you use, ah, a lot of _black_, don't ya, Shaylee?" he chuckled.

"Black is my favourite colour, you know it is," I replied. "Besides, I thought it would look cooler if it was black. Especially this one." I pointed at the one I'd drawn first. "Look, dad, even the writing at the side is black. It doesn't need fancy colours to look cool."

I smiled at dad, who laughed quietly.

"Anything you say, Picasso," he said, patting my head. His voice was spookily calm. "How many…how many of these are you planning to do?"

"Uhh…" I twiddled with my fingers. "I don't know. I've done four, but, I can do as many as you want, dad."

"Hmmm…good…good." He traced the shapes on the paper with his finger, a sudden smile pursing his lips. "Well, if that's so…maybe you _can _make more for me."

"Do…do you like it then, dad?" I asked, nervously.

Dad placed the picture on his lap, whilst grinning at me.

"Of _course _I do. This is…I have no words. Such a talented little girl you are, my Shaylee." I exhaled a huge sigh of relief. "But there's something wrong." He picked up the picture again and looked curiously at it.

My smile faded, as I shuffled a little on the bed.

"Wh-What's wrong, dad?" I questioned, putting my finger to my mouth.

"I have…nothing to complain of these pictures, baby," he explained, taking his time with his words. "They're very…it's very…me. I like this one. You know, the one that looks like a devil? But the thing is...they're…_too big_."

"Too big?"

"Yeah, we need them on a smaller piece of paper. You know? So it's about the same size as a normal playing card."

"Aw, dad, I didn't bring any scissors," I said, totally disgusted with myself. "I can't cut them..."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Larry has some. But could you do that for me, beautiful?"

"Yes, of course," I said, confidently.

"Good girl," he said, filing through them one more time, before passing them back to me. "Such a talented little girl, you are."

"Not really, dad," I said, standing up and placing them on the table again. "I'm only good at drawing, nothing else."

"You'll find you're good at a _lot more _than that, when you _grow up_, sweetheart."

Dad proceeded to getting changed into his night clothes while I started to draw again, starting from scratch and drawing miniature versions of the designs, like dad had told me to. I tried to do it the same size as a normal playing card to impress dad.

I was taking my time with it, starting with the third design, slowly sketching out the swirls one by one around the edge of the paper. The Jester in this design was in the centre of the paper and looked menacing with his colourless eyes and his devilish smile. Around the main drawing were swirly patterns, including the diamond, club, spade and heart in each of the four corners. I delicately shaded the heart and diamond a crimson red, before outlining them with my thick black ink pen.

I was so absorbed in what I was doing, I didn't hear dad humming to himself behind me. I finally noticed it after I finished colouring in the tiny diamond. Dad was making funny little humming sounds and when I turned around, I saw him slumping in the bed, with his arms flopping either side of him. He was staring up towards the ceiling again, his hair covering his droopy eyes.

"Dad?" I giggled.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, as he darted his head towards me.

"Dad, what are you doing?" I asked, still chuckling.

"I'm thinking."

"What about?"

"Just about…something."

I decided to leave him be. I continued to draw the smaller version and got very annoyed when my hand started to ache halfway through. I slammed the pen down and groaned, loudly.

"Hey, hey, Shaylee, what's up?" Dad asked.

"My hand's aching," I complained, folding my arms, like I was spoiled five year old.

"Aw, Shaylee, baby," Dad said, making his voice sound overly-sympathetic. "Come 'ere. You wanna little cuddle? Might make you feel better."

I whirled around to see him already outstretching his arms and beaming at me. I couldn't help but smile back at him, reluctantly going over to him and nestling up to him. I found it strange how dad suddenly decided he'd be affectionate, he was really only the cuddly type when a lot was on his mind or if a lot was on my mind. But I didn't question it. I just went along with it, happily laying in his massive arms as dad stroked my hair like he would a pampered cat.

It took a while, but dad eventually whispered, "I'm so proud of you, you know, Shaylee."

I stared at him, peculiarly. "What for? I haven't–"

"You haven't complained about _anything_. You've been _so good _and let daddy do his thing. Not once have you moaned about getting away for a while. You've just minded your own business, but you've still been good for me, haven't ya? And those pictures…they are simply _wonderful_. You're a tough nut, aren't ya? Coping so well with everything about mom..."

"Dad…"

"Yes?"

I gulped. "Dad, I-I know I shouldn't miss her, so why do I?"

Dad sighed as he leaned his head on mine. "Because she was your mother. Simple as that. You instantly have a bond with your mother as _soon as your born_…I know I did…and even if that relationship crashes down, and no matter how black your heart becomes, you'll always have room for a little bit of, uh, _love_ for her."

I let the moment sink in as we stayed there in silence for a long while. Those wise words that dad had told me will remain with me forever, because he was right. I guess I did still love mom. A little. I wish I didn't spend as much time crying for her attention and more time crying because I wasn't used to her not being there.

We were interrupted by Larry quietly opening the door, and looking in on us.

"Hey," he whispered. "Aw, look at you both. You look absolutely shattered, man."

"I am, after today," Dad replied.

Larry and dad had been out that afternoon, while I was completing the designs. I'm not sure what they did, but judging by dad's mood when they returned, it appeared to be successful.

Larry chuckled. "Well, I'm goin' to bed, now."

"Okay, pal," Dad said. He sat up and gently lay me down as Larry started closing the door again. "Ooh, Larry," Dad called after him. Larry peeped his head through the door again. "I think, if tomorrow, we have a…_lazy day_…and nothing happens…you know, there's nothing on the news about them being on my tracks...then the day after, I think we'll head back."

"You really think so?" Larry asked.

"Yeah, I mean, we've been alright, living here…and no one's found us…even after we've been out in the City no one's bothered to report us…maybe because they didn't _recognise me_…but, I think it's safe to return home. But, we'll give it another day, just to be _safe_."

"If you say, so, dude," Larry yawned. "Okay, well, goodnight you pair of goofballs."

"Later," Dad said, slumping back down on the bed.

"Night, Larry," I called, waving.

He closed the door behind him, and then dad instantly turned to me, lowering his gravelly voice, giving it an eerie edge.

"Do you want to know…what I was talking about the other day?" Dad asked.

"What?" I said, sounding confused.

"About Larry being the _big man_ before he became worried about _everything_?"

"Well, dad, he was talking about his wife the other day…"

"No. Was he really?" Dad tried hard to not to erupt into laughter. "What did he tell you?"

"That they argued and they lost money so he had to shut this place down."

"That's only _half _the story. D'ya wanna know the truth?" I nodded, beaming widely at him. He pulled me closer by lightly pushing my neck towards him. "Larry's wife, well, ex-wife now…Marilynn her name was, beautiful woman. She had this problem. Uh, how do I put this...you know…how Larry used to hang around with me and Harleen and that? Well, she always thought he flirted with Harleen. She was a paranoid little freak. The thing is, when they owned this tavern together…they got a load of men who came in and gambled every night. I told you what that is, didn't I?" I nodded. "_Well_, they were losing money as it is…so Marilynn gambling the money away wasn't exactly _helping_. Larry was always with us, you know, doing _awesome _stuff, while he left her to look after the place all the time. Obviously that _annoyed her_. I got dragged into it, only because I wanted provide for you and your mom, but…He used to be _the man_ at it. He did it because he _could_. He even showed me some tricks, huh? You know, how to give people a piece of my mind, how to use all these different kinds of guns and that. You could say he taught me everything."

"So that's why you're so good at not getting caught!" I said, excitedly.

"Exactly, Shaylee. _Anyway_...Marilynn got into gambling with these guys a little too much…Larry didn't like that. _Not at all_. Well, all the crap about the gambling and the stuff with Harleen, it crashed their marriage into pieces and this old place went down too…"

"So did Larry actually flirt with Harleen, dad?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"Well…you could say that. Harleen thought nothing of it. In fact she could take it. She just did it to shut him up."

"Do what?"

"Uhh…nothing a young, innocent girl like _you _should know…"

"Aw, please, dad…"

Dad sighed, before grinning slightly. "You could say I caught them at it..."

"What?"

"Ah-da-da-da…let me finish. It ripped me to shreds, because, well, that's _not _what we do in _our gang_. It wasn't about flirting, it was about showing people what we think of 'em. _Then_…Larry went all emo and said he wasn't going to do none of it anymore. For a while he ran this place on his own, and I still visited him, but…he just couldn't take it. Marilynn _leaves_. Now he's still here on his own. But me and Harleen still carried on with it, meeting _better people_. She was never into Larry anyway…and now, obviously he can't _stand her_."

"So is that why he worries all the time?"

"He don't want to be caught dead doing it anymore. It reminds him of his past. He's given it up, but, I suppose I still tolerate him because we've been friends since we were kids. Caught him nicking something yesterday, though. So he's not _completely _given it up, has he?"

"Did Larry ever meet mom?"

"No, he never did."

"Why not?"

"Ahh…details…details. They just didn't want to. He was aware of her though."

Dad paused and glanced upwards, still holding me gently by the neck. I managed to wriggle away and sit up to think, only to be held creepily around the back by dad.

"Dad!" I squealed.

"What?" he laughed.

"What you _doing_?"

"What? Aren't I allowed to give you a hug, honey?"

"Yeah, but, just a bit random."

"I wanted to get off the subject. My life back then was so much more complicated than it is now. Now, it's just…well it's _too simple_. Then, it was like, hang out with those guys, visit the tavern, be part of the gang, to then be the _leader _of the gang _and _look after my precious little girl…which of course is the most important." I laughed as dad squeezed me harder. He then whispered, "And you know what?"

"What?"

"Because you've been _such a good girl_ for daddy, tomorrow, I'm going to treat you."

My heart started racing. "W-What?"

"Yeah, you know that money I gave you? That $50?"

"Yeah…"

"Go by some hair dye tomorrow. Go on a little adventure. I know you've always wanted to dye your hair. Go do it, as a reward for being so good."

I wanted to dive into a hug but I couldn't because he was holding me so tight. Instead I bounced up and down, squealing excitedly.

"Really?" I cried.

"Yes, princess!" Dad answered, letting me go at last and turning my head to face him. "Rewards come to those who are good for me." He roughly ruffled my hair.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I shrieked, leaping on him until he collapsed onto the bed, with me on top of him.

We both laughed happily, as dad picked me up and hugged me tightly.

"Shush, shush, shush," he snickered. "Larry's in bed."

"Oh, god, I forgot!" I said, spluttering into giggles again.

"It's okay, just calm yourself down now," Dad said. "Get yourself ready for bed. You have a little _adventure _to go on tomorrow, like a big girl!"

We fell asleep within minutes that night, partly because I had exhausted myself by getting so worked up, but dad was knackered as it was.

The next day, I dressed myself in my zebra-patterned t-shirt and threw my breakfast down my throat in seconds flat. Dad helped me get ready, even flapping one of Larry's baseball caps onto my head.

"Dad!" I laughed when threw it on.

"Aw, don't you look just adorable?" He lifted me off my feet, spinning his screaming ten-year-old daughter in the air.

After lunch, me and dad immediately headed out the door. Dad gave me his backpack when we in the fresh air, standing outside our stolen car. We'd explained to Larry we were doing during breakfast, and he had a lot to say on the matter, going on about how dangerous it was out there for a little kid to wander off into the City shopping mall, without a parent. Dad told him it was an opportunity for me to do finally do something by myself, to be aware of the dangers in the City, to be aware of the people, and to see just how pathetic people really were.

Dad walked me to the end of the street, holding my hand tightly. I was all suited and ready, wearing my purple cardigan and that silly cap Larry let me borrow. He had no choice, really, dad wanted me to wear it, because of the sun. I personally thought I suited it. Just before I ventured off, dad kneeled down to my level and looked out into the busy streets. He was still gripping my hand. I didn't dare let go of it.

"Now, Shaylee," he said, importantly, "You know where you're going? You remember my directions?"

"Yeah," I answered, nodding. "Straight ahead, past the bank and round the corner. Then it's the beauty shop on the second street, it has green posters in the window."

"_Clever girl_!" Dad exclaimed, as if I was about four. "You have everything you need? Money? Pad? My cell phone?" I nodded. "That's good…very good." He glanced away from me for a second, before facing me again. He had his thinking face on. "Just a thought…" he added.

"Yeah?"

"Take this as well, while you're at it." Dad dug into his inside pocket of his coat and revealed his small, black handgun. I gasped in horror when I saw it. "What? What's the matter, Shaylee?"

"Dad, that's…that's a _gun_!" I cried.

"Shhh…yes, I know that."

"And you want me to take it?"

Dad grinned naughtily at me, before forcing my free hand in front of me and slamming the gun in my open palm.

"I'm not letting anyone mess with my Shaylee," he said, craftily. "Show them whose boss, honey. It has bullets in it, ready." I stared at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Oh, and take some advice, Shay? Put it your bag. You don't want people seeing you carrying it round in your hand, do you? You don't want to get into trouble with the cops, now, do you?" Dad laughed, loudly. "Only use when necessary. And I mean, _very _necessary. Give it here. I'll put it in for ya." I carefully gave it him back as he unzipped my bag and placed it inside. "And don't be nervous, Shay. If something happens, then just call Larry. His number is my phone, just give us a call and I'll come getcha, okay?"

I nodded, nervously. "Okay."

"One more thing," he said. "What colour you gonna get?"

"I want black," I replied.

"Hmm…why am I not _surprised_? That's fine, but, uh, could I ask for one more thing?"

"Yes?" I said, listening closely.

"I want you get another one for me."

"What?"

"Get some green dye for me, Shaylee."

"_Green_?"

"Yeah…green is good."

"What _for_?"

"Uhh…just for a little experiment, okay?"

"Uhh…o-okay."

"There's my good girl. Now. You ready?"

"Of course," I said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Dad gently kissed my forehead before standing up. He gave me the nod and a little nudge to venture off, which I did.

I took my time walking in the directions that dad had told me. They were pretty straight forward. Larry had given me a map in case I got lost but I simply refused to use it. I was very sensible, using the roads properly and planning out where I was walking to next. I was in awe of the beautiful City, staring up at the large buildings and feeling to cool summer breeze on my face. For once I actually felt free and happy, taking in the luxurious place, and constantly getting a surge of inspirations for future drawings.

After experiencing all of this, I didn't want to go back to our little flat in Gotham Town.

It was only when I got into the shopping place itself that I had to stop and ask for directions. A noticed a tall woman, reading a newspaper on a bench, and I cautiously walked over to her.

"Excuse me?" I said, making my voice clear. She put her paper down and looked at me with pure impatience. I didn't let that put me off. "Do you know where the beauty shop is? One that sells hair dye?"

She stared at me curiously, before pointing down the street, towards the left side.

"Down there," she sighed. "Third shop from the end, on the right. Gotham's Beauty."

"Oh, okay. Thank you," I said politely.

She didn't say anything and went straight back to newspaper. I walked off in that direction.

"Bit rude," I muttered under my breath.

I entered the large beauty store, which was decorated in pinks and black, making me feel sick. I _hated _pink and black together. I wandered around for ages trying to find what I was looking for. I was eventually directed by the shop assistant to the far end of the store, where there was a large shelf-full of different hair dyes.

I was overwhelmed by the different choices, all different brands and colours. I was there for about fifteen minutes trying to decide which black hair dye to choose. That's when the shop assistant, a very camp man, came over to help me.

"Can I help you, young lady?" he asked in his breathy voice.

"Uh, yeah, please," I replied. "I need some black hair dye, but I don't know which one to choose."

He looked at me, a little surprised, but lucky for him, he didn't question it. "What shade were you thinking of?"

"Quite dark."

He took his time going through all the different options, explaining them one by one. I got fed up with this and eventually just chose the cheapest one. Just before he left me be, I tugged on his shirt.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Yes?"

"Do you have any green hair dye?"

"_Green_?" he asked, surprised, widening his eyes.

"Yeah, green."

"Ooh, I'm not sure. I could check upstairs for you."

"Okay, yeah," I said, as I was growing impatient.

It turns out that they did have some, but it was majorly expensive. Over $30 for the bottle. As ridiculous as that was, it didn't matter because I could just about by both with my $50.

I was so glad I'd decided to put my money folded in my pocket because my gun would have been seen if I opened my bag. I was surprised they didn't have a detector or something to catch people carrying them, but, dad obviously knew they had none, otherwise he wouldn't have given me it. He's not stupid.

I didn't get lost walking back to Joey's Tavern, luckily. I had to concentrate hard though, trying to remember my way back. I had to ask for directions again, but at least that time I didn't have some impatient cow, I had a cheery old man.

A lot of people stared at me when I walked past them. I wish I could use the gun on people who just gave me a weird stare, but I could only use it when necessary. That little journey gave me an insight to Gotham's society of judgemental idiots, as on the way back I witnessed a fight going on between two teenage boys. I stood and watched for a while, until some woman nagged me to stay away, as it was unsuitable for me. Unsuitable? I wanted to laugh in her face. I'd witnessed my own father hold someone at gun point, not only that, but I'd seen so many fights happen at Little Hill Elementary. So how was that _unsuitable_?

God, it's a funny world we live in.

It took me a while to return back to the bar, I got back just before the sun was going down. Dad was overjoyed to see me. He and Larry were sitting in the bar area, both with a pint in their hands. I came in and obediently wiped my feet on the carpet and shut the door behind me, as far as it would go.

"I'm back!" I called.

"Baby!" Dad said, happily, walking over to me. "How was your little adventure?"

"Amazing!" I said, smiling widely. "Look, I got the hair dye. I nearly got lost on the way back and got caught up watching a fight, but I was fine. I found my way there and back by following the signs. No one got funny with me with me either."

"I _knew_ you could do it!" Dad cried, stroking my cheek and smiling, proudly. "So how much was all of that?"

"I had just enough, the green one was so much money."

"Money grabbing beggars," Dad laughed.

"Green what?" Larry asked.

"Nothing, pal!" Dad called, just as I was about to say something. He shook his head slightly, as a sign not to speak a word of it. "Well done, precious. Give me that."

I handed him the plastic bag with the dye in it, as well as his own bag, which he flung over his shoulder.

"So what's happening now?" I asked.

"I'm starving, you want some dinner?" Larry asked, getting up.

"Aw, yeah!" I exclaimed.

Dad chuckled. "You go and finish those drawings, princess. We're heading off,tomorrow and I want them before we go home. No one's coming after me now, I promise ya. Too busy dealing with Harleen."

"Okay!" I said, giving him a hug.

He hugged me back and then out of nowhere, lifted me off my feet, with a playful groan, making me squeal loudly. Dad laughed as he carried me up the stairs and into our spare bedroom. He gently placed me on the bed.

"You've proved to me today you can go out into the big world by yourself and do things on your own," Dad said, just before heading out the door. "I know now you're big and tough, just like your old man. You can look after yourself, and defend yourself. I'm proud of you, my darling. And just remember, Shaylee, whenever you come face to face with someone who seems like an enemy, just remember you're _my _daughter, no one else's. Think about everything I've told you."

"You're the best!" I said, proudly.

"I try. See you in a bit, sweetie."

Dad winked at me before shutting the door behind him.


	9. Chapter 8 - No Longer A Victim

*****I didn't plan to upload this so soon, but I've literally been writing this all day because I got so excited about it! Shaylee growing up again, seeing a bit more of the Shaylee/Chase relationship and more development of Jack becoming the Joker as well Shaylee going completely nuts :P **

**Might have to put this story on hold now. But I shall update asap! Thank you! :D**

**NOTE: This chapter contains strong language! And also some minor violent moments, but more threatening behaviour. You've been warned!*****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 - No Longer A Victim<strong>

I felt a little sad when we had to leave the next day. I didn't fully understand why. I missed my bedroom more than anything. Sitting at that little desk in that spare bedroom didn't feel as relaxed as drawing in my own bedroom, but I was going to miss being away from the Town. I'd experienced so much by walking through the hectic streets of Gotham City, taking in all of the busyness. I was going to miss the City. Living in a town, you get even more judgemental idiots.

Dad woke me up quite early in the morning and while I got dressed and made sure everything was packed, he checked the news once again just to be safe. He informed me that Harleen was now locked up for good, but there was no news on the police still searching for him at all. Dad wore a fresh new purple coat, complete with a green t-shirt and this time a deep purple tie. I had to force him to brush his hair, which he backcombed, as it was now getting pretty long.

Luckily, our stolen car still remained parked outside, which I found unbelievable. I couldn't believe that hardly anyone had spotted it. Not that it would have mattered, anyway, dad would have dealt with them.

Dad had one final cigarette before we left.

"Where you want my suitcase, dad?" I asked.

Dad enjoyed exhaling the smoke. "Put in the back seat, Shay," he said. "Was a pain at the front last time. Here, I'll open it."

He pulled out that golden key from his inside pocket like an illusionist, and unlocked the car with a sharp turn of the key. He helped me put my case in the back before flicking the cigarette away and rubbing it away into the ground with his feet. As always, dad was fully prepared, loading a gun inside his coat as well as his extra one in his bag, along with extra bullets. He had all his belongings shoved into his bag as well as my own, included that face-paint he never used. The hair dye I had bought were still in that plastic bag, which I put my Joker card designs in as well.

Larry came out to see us off, wearing that scruffy black jacket he was wearing the first time I saw him. Dad put his hands in pockets as he faced him.

"Well, Jack, I…I hope you get back okay," Larry said.

"Ah, don't worry, we will," Dad replied. "I'm a safe driver, aren't I, Shaylee?"

I nodded even though I knew he was joking.

"See you again?" Larry asked, holding his hand out for a handshake. Dad glanced at his hand, before grinning at him and reluctantly removing his own hand from his pocket and slowly shaking Larry's hand.

"Yeah, yeah…" Dad said. "Sure. I'll come visit ya again. Was…_nice _to see you again."

"Yeah, you too. And to meet your daughter."

Larry smiled at me, but I struggled to do the same back.

"And you know we appreciate you letting us hide here," Dad said, sounding very serious. "Not that you would have had a choice, anyway. I wasn't letting them find us. No way. But they won't now. They'll leave me alone, and they won't take Shaylee."

Larry then turned away from dad and kneeled down to me, who looked at him, curiously.

"Shaylee," he said, smiling. "It was wonderful to meet you at last."

"It was nice to meet you, too," I replied.

"If you're in trouble, you can always come here for help, okay?"

"Thank you, Larry," I said, appreciatively. I let that thought hammer into my mind. "Thank you for all the food and stuff."

"You're welcome."

Larry stood up and dad forced him into a handshake again.

"Later, pal," he said, managing to smile.

"See you around, Jack. You know I'm always here."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, Shaylee, into the car now, baby. Let's go home."

I immediately ran over to the other side of the car and got in, strapping on my seatbelt. I waited for dad, who gave Larry a little manly hug before getting into the driver's seat with the window still shattered off.

Dad revved up the car with his special golden key, waving to Larry, who waved back. He slowly started driving down the narrow road, as I waved frantically to Larry too.

I looked up at dad, who smiled back down at me.

"_Okay_, to Gotham Town we go then!" he cried, winking at me.

"Dad…"

"What?"

"You don't have your seatbelt on," I giggled.

Dad sighed and halted the car as he quickly strapped himself in, with me giggling as he did. He then playfully buzzed my belly.

"You're a cheeky monkey, you are," he laughed.

"Hey, I'm only looking out for danger," I said, winking.

We both laughed as dad continued to drive on, with me flipping on the radio. Before I knew it, we were speeding down Gotham City's endless streets. I rolled down my own window and leaned out into the gushing wind, taking in the commotion and busy atmosphere that you just didn't get in the miserable little town. Dad told me to shut up when I started randomly screaming, but I just couldn't help it.

I eventually wore myself out, falling asleep when dad turned the radio off.

I was startled when I woke up on the sofa in our own flat. I flickered my eyes open to see dad, sitting next to me, with his hand on my head. I groaned and stirred slightly, making dad giggle.

"Welcome home, baby," he whispered. I sat up, stretching and rubbing my eyes with a groan. "Well, someone's tired, aren't they?" Dad wrapped his arms around me, and I nearly fell asleep on him again.

"Dad?" I whispered, after a few moments.

"Hmm?"

"How long I been asleep?"

"Ahh, a couple of hours. I fell asleep, too, baby. Was woken up by my stupid head." I nuzzled up to him, sympathetically. I nearly started crying again. I despised it _so _much. "Don't worry, I'm fine." He stroked my head in reassurance.

"What did you do with the car?"

"I out it back where I found it, of course."

"_Did you_?"

"Yes, Shay, maybe then they can figure out _what happened _to the guy." He paused, chuckling to himself as I yawned. "Well, _you _wore yourself out, didn't ya, ya silly billy?"

I giggled. "I got too excited."

"Well, no need anymore. We're back in this silly place. Nothing exciting here is, there?" We shared a laugh as dad flicked on the TV, the news immediately coming on. "Ahh, _not this _again," Dad complained. "Had enough about Harleen."

I eventually went back to drawing again, but I went back to drawing normal things. Well, normal for me. Now I'd had the experience in the City, I drew a scene in Gotham City, with the huge skyscrapers, with me in the middle of the page, glancing around in awe. I drew myself with black hair, with my fringe flopping in front of my eyes, like Chase's hair. I drew the City at night, with twinkling stars in the black sky and the shop doors wide open. I sketched little displays in every shop, of course the clothes shops having amazing short-cut dresses and I even drew one of dad's purple coats on display.

Dad asked if I wanted a campfire night that evening, and of course I agreed. Dad threw the Gotham's Beauty plastic bag in the fire, which burst into flames beautifully. He also rummaged through the draws in his room, finding some ancient prescription letters in there. I had no idea about them, but dad said they didn't matter anymore. One of them was for mom, as one time she did _try _and get help for her drinking, but there was no way of taming the alcoholic. The other one was dad's, regarding his schizophrenia. That was the last time he'd ever been to a doctor, and he told that was when mom was pregnant with me. He said that he stormed out that day because if he didn't he would have hit the doctor, claiming they had no clue what he was going through.

Dad let them both rot in the campfire, along with a picture of him and mom when they first got together. I looked at it before dad disposed of it, and I'd never seen mom and dad look so happy. It made my heart drop. Sometimes I wished they were still like that, as much as I loved my wild life, I sometimes wished I had a normal family life, like some of the kids in my school had.

Me and dad stayed deep in conversation for hours that evening, talking about our little adventure we'd had over those six days and dad went on a happy rant about how shit the police were for not finding him. Dad ordered a pizza for us, and we both happily munched on it while we chatted. He promised me that I would never ever be taken away from him, because I didn't _have _anyone else. My grandparents were all deceased, and I had no other relatives. I only had dad.

It was going great until dad brought up something I was dreading: returning to school.

My enthusiasm was destroyed when I realised I only had a week left before I had to go back. It was near the end of August, for me, the most depressing time of the year.

"Remember what you proved the other day?" Dad said, looking at me, cunningly. "You proved to your old dad that you can go out and do things by yourself, and you aren't even in high school yet. Oh-ho-ho…_wait _until you get into high school, Shay! Huh, but you can take on anything _now_."

"So why is Kayley Lyons still picking on me?" I whined.

"Is she still giving you trouble? This Kayley girl sounds like one of the those silly bimbos whose going to grow up working at McDonald's," Dad scoffed. "You could take _her_ on, any day of the week."

"I have. I _told _you I've beaten her up because she annoys me. But I'm _always _punished for it, dad. She _always _gets away with it."

"_Never _let her get away with it, baby girl. Prove to the teachers just _how horrible_ she really is. People like that, who make someone feel _so low_ just for their own pleasure, huh…I remember. You didn't think _I _didn't face idiots like that? Tons of 'em. But I was lucky, you see, because Larry beat the crap out of them for me, the little scumbag." He chuckled. "I know you can show people not to mess with you. I know there's a fighter in you, Shaylee, just like me. Don't let _that _stupid bitch ruin everything. You understand, precious?"

"Yes, daddy."

"That's my girl."

I tried not to think about going back to school for the rest of the week. Thinking about it, and recalling all the names Kayley had called me, it just racked my brain. I desperately tried to concentrate on my drawings.

One night, two days before I was due to go back to school, I begged dad if I could use his cell phone to ring Chase. He'd given me his house number anyway, even though I told him and told him that we didn't have a phone. Dad never let me use his phone. I don't know why, to be honest with you. I guess he was cautious about who I talked to, but he _knew _Chase was my only friend, and I'd talked about him so much dad practically knew him himself.

"Dad, please," I whined. "I won't be long. I just miss him so much."

"Shaylee, you _know _I have to save my credit. I have to use it to call…uhh…"

"Daddy, please." I fluttered my eyes, innocently at him, tugging on his shirt.

Dad sighed heavily. "Alright, alright…"

"Thank you!" I latched onto him in excitement.

"Hey, come on, get off…" Dad snapped. I immediately let go, but I couldn't help smiling like an idiot again. Dad rummaged through his pocket. "Promise me not to be too long. Give it me straight back."

I took the phone off him, beaming. "I won't be. I promise."

"Go on, then," Dad said, a little calmer.

I rushed into my room and dug into my school bag to find the tiny paper with the number, written down on it. I found it and dialled the number, written in his smudgy blue ink.

I waited impatiently as I heard the phone ring down my ear. It was quickly picked up.

"Hello?" a woman's voice said.

I started to fumble in surprise. "Uhh-uhh…hello," I muttered.

"Who is this?" the voice came again.

"Uhh…it's…it's Shaylee." I desperately tried to make myself seem friendly and sound like I'd spoken on the phone all the time. "Is that Mrs. Delancey?"

Shaylee, what are you _doing_?! You _know_ that his parents are divorced! Why would she have that last name still?!

"It is," she replied.

Oh thank goodness for that.

"Hiya, Mrs. Delancey," I said, cheerfully. "It's Shaylee, Chase's friend from school?"

"Oh, hello Shaylee!" she replied, enthusiastically. Her voice sounded like the typical friendly mother voice, it was so different from my own mother's. "Yes, yes, Chase's has told me all about you." That made me smile like an idiot. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Yes, please."

"Chase!" I heard her call.

The phone went silent for a minute, but I heard distant talking in the background, followed by loud footsteps. Then I heard Chase's familiar low voice as he took the phone from his mom.

"Hey, tiger!" he greeted in a silly voice.

I laughed and sat on my bed. "Hey, Chase!"

"Wow, you sound happy," he said. "I thought you said you didn't have a house phone?"

"I'm borrowing my dad's cell phone. I had to beg him. He never lets me use it, but I just _had _to talk to you."

"Oh right. Haven't seen you in _ages_, you okay? How you feeling?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm really good."

"Are you?"

I scratched my head in confusion. "Y-Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" Chase's voice lowered, starting to sound more awkward. "You know, your mom…"

My smile slowly faded as my heart started pounding. "You _know _about that?"

"It was on the news like a few weeks ago."

"Oh. Oh, yeah."

"I'm sorry, Shaylee."

"I'm okay."

An awkward silence followed. "Anyway, you sure you're okay?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I promise."

I wanted to quickly get off the subject.

"Pretty brutal, wasn't it? Did you see any of it?"

"N-No," I lied.

"Thank God."

"I know."

"How's your dad?"

"He's, uh…he's okay. A bit stressed, but he's fine."

"I'm not surprised. How have you two coped with it?"

"Uhh…we've just spent a lot of time together."

"What you been up to?"

I chuckled. "Oh you wouldn't believe me if I told you. My dad's just been himself, really. Just doing his usual stuff."

"Oh, oh good."

Chase didn't know dad was a criminal. I didn't dare tell him about what dad did in case he went around telling everyone. Not that I didn't trust him, but, I wasn't idiotic. I wasn't going to let the school or anyone in my school know about his criminal lifestyle, otherwise I'd get into big trouble that I couldn't be doing with. The school would phone social services, and dad didn't like that. I would have _betrayed _him if I informed the school. I would never in my right mind do that, even if my mind was slightly crazy. The only thing I told Chase was that we were close and some of the things he's told me.

I decided to change the subject. "So, you looking forward to high school?"

I heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. "Well, sort of. Me and mom went to the opening evening and it seems okay to me. I had to practically beg mom to let me go to the one in the City than go to Little Hill High like everyone else. Gotham High seems much better than Little Hill, anyway."

"_Anywhere _is better than Little Hill," I laughed.

Chase laughed with me. "Yeah, I feel sorry for you having to do one last year. But art classes are really fun, though. The project was actually really fun."

"What is it?" I asked.

"You have to create a portrait, but it has to involve an animal. I did bats, of course. I did a whole jungle on it. Mr. Boyd even said it was good."

"Oh well done swotty trousers."

"Oh, thank you!" Chase laughed.

"It's gonna be so boring with you, Chase."

"Nah, you'll be fine. You're made of steel, Shaylee."

"I'm worried about Kayley."

"Oh, Kayley can suck it." I burst out laughing again. "Her brother goes to Gotham High, he was helping on open evening. He seems like a little spoiled freak, too."

"_Shaylee_!" Dad yelled from outside my bedroom door, making me jump a mile.

"What?" I called back.

"You nearly done? I _need _my phone!"

"Okay, okay, I'll come off now."

"Good."

"Chase?" I sighed back into the phone.

"Yeah?"

"I have to go."

"Aw, really?"

"Yeah, my dad wants his phone back."

"Oh, okay, well I won't make you two argue. I'll let you go."

"Thanks."

"See you soon, tiger. Ring me again some other time? I don't want to lose contact with you."

"I promise I will. You're still my best friend, after all."

"Aw, thanks, Shaylee. It's gonna suck not having you around."

"I'm sure you'll make new friends, Chase."

"I hope so. Well, see you soon, then."

"Okay, see you. Bye."

"Bye."

I ended the call, feeling a bit sad. I strolled out of my room, to find dad already standing outside my door.

"Phone," he commanded. I immediately gave it to him, keeping my mouth shut. He buried it in his pocket, not taking those piercing eyes off me. "You didn't look through my messages, did you?"

I stared at him. "No, dad. Why would I do that?"

"Ah, little children are curious creatures."

"I didn't look through anything. I swear."

"Okay, I believe you." He playfully ruffled my hair up again. "Hey, when _are _you going to dye your hair, Shaylee?"

I stood stiff. I'd completely forgotten about that. "Uhh..I don't know."

"Well, if you're gonna do it, you better find someone else, honey," Dad chuckled. "_I _certainly can't do it."

"Then how are you going to use yours?"

"Hmm…good point, good point. I'll work it out."

"Chase's mom is a hairdresser…"

"Oh that's lovely. Now. Bedtime for you, little one."

"Aw, dad!"

"No, no, no, no…no arguing." Dad's voice turned eerily calm as he gently touched my face. "Go on. To bed. You need to start getting used to early nights again. Can't be tired for hell in the mornings, can you?"

Dad could predict the future. Two days later, I was woken up by dad thumping on my door, crying, "Oh, _Shaylee_! Wake up! Your final year of hell _awaits_!"

I tried so hard to walk into school with an open mind, trying to tell myself it was all going to be okay. Although it was nearly impossible, I cleared my mind of my troubles and thought about what dad and Chase had said. That I was a tough nut, that I _wasn't _about to let anyone stand in my way. You know all that crap about fresh year, fresh start? Well, I tried desperately to take that on board.

But, no. I faced the usual stares from the nerdy kids and giggles as soon as I started my new class in my final year. To make things worse, my teacher turned out to be Mr. Truman, the most boring teacher in the entire school, but I guess that was better than having a teacher who just yelled all the time. Mr. Truman was ancient and was the most soft you could get, which was a bonus for me, as I could outwit him easily.

It had slipped my mind that mom's murder had been over the news over summer vacation, and that nearly every kid in the entire school would have seen it. It was okay, though, as most of them didn't even know that was my mom.

But Kayley Lyons knew. Oh, she knew damn well. She'd met her one time at parents evening in fourth grade, but extremely briefly. She acted all sweet and innocent, fluttering her eyes and twiddling her hair, lying to mom how we were such good friends. I told mom it was all nonsense when we got home. I don't really want to talk about much else, as it lead into an argument between her and dad, how mom was complaining I needed to make more of effort making friends. Why should I make the effort? She was a bully. Who wants to be friends with a bully?

It was the third day in, and it was break time. I was minding my own business, sitting up against the brick wall on the playground, quite happily drawing in my pad, as it was the only thing that kept me occupied. Dad had told me about his robbery the day before, so I drew what he had described. It was coming along very nicely and I was feeling very calm, unusual for the first few days back at school.

That was, until Kayley came strolling over, followed closely by her equally as irritating friends, Frankie James and Jasmine Holder. Frankie and Jasmine were like sheep, in fact they _looked _like sheep. They constantly followed Kayley around because of her so-called 'popularity' and it was like Kayley had hypnotised them to do everything she said.

They came over, giggling to one another and I glared up at them, hugging my picture closer to my chest.

"Hi, Napier," Kayley said in her annoying girly voice.

I didn't answer her, and I tried to go back to my drawing, hoping they'd go away. Their giggling made my skin crawl. I prayed they wouldn't start messing with my head.

"I said, _hi_," Kayley taunted.

"Hello? She was talking to you," Frankie cut in.

I scowled at the three of them. "Hi," I said, mockingly.

"How's little Napier coping without her mommy? Must be terrible."

"Fine, actually, for your information. Don't bring my mom into it."

"Ooh, _sorry_, Shaylee," Jasmine giggled.

"Whatcha drawing, Napier?" Kayley asked, followed by cruel giggles from the other two.

"A picture," I replied.

"Hey, don't talk to me like I'm stupid!" Kayley snapped.

"Whatever," I sighed, continuing to draw.

Suddenly, Kayley snatched my picture out of my hands. I gasped in horror and stood up, where Kayley lifted it up into the air, out of my reach. She was tall for her age and wearing high shoes which just infuriated me further.

"Give it back!" I shouted.

"Look at this, girls," Kayley said, loudly, sharing it with the others. Frankie pushed me to the ground, as Kayley turned away from me and they huddled into a group to look at my drawing. They erupted into horrible laughter, making me feel pain inside. I struggled to my feet and attempted to push into the huddle.

"Give it back, Kayley!" I yelled.

Kayley turned around to face me, with the others still giggling to one another. She once again lifted it out of my reach as I failed to grasp it from her. Kayley laughed in my face as I pathetically jumped to try and get my picture off her.

"Just push her, Kayley!" Frankie laughed.

Kayley did just that and straight after she started heartlessly ripping up my picture to shreds, in front of my face, and chucking down to the floor with me. They all started laughing again as I painfully lay there, helplessly looking at my torn apart picture.

The ground started to turn red, as I panted hard and felt pain rolling down my face.

"You're so stupid!" Kayley laughed. "Can't fight back now that her boyfriend isn't here to save her!"

"Chase is _not _my boyfriend!" I yelled.

"Ooh, Napier's getting all cry-baby because she doesn't have her boyfriend here anymore."

I quickly got to my feet, scraping my joggers off as I glared ahead at the three laughing hyenas.

My head started reeling, the humming getting louder and louder. Kayley kept on taunting me, along with her two accomplices, but I felt no pain when they poked me or tried to push me to ground again. I felt no pain on my body. All of my pain was surging inside of me instead, through every inch. My mind kept on racking. Dad's words were yelling inside my head.

_"__I know you can show people not to mess with you. I know there's a fighter in you, Shaylee, just like me. Don't let that stupid bitch ruin everything."_

_"__Whenever you come face to face with someone, just remember you're my daughter, no one else's."_

"Shut up. Shut up! _SHUT UP_!" I screamed at her.

I screamed so loudly and harshly that she did actually shut up. I slowly walked up to her, bearing my anger-filled eyes into her soul. People around started watching the action. Oh, were they about to see a show.

I couldn't control myself anymore. My anger poured into my hands and with them I violently grabbed Kayley by her collar and threw her against the brick wall, making her groan. I didn't realise my own strength as Kayley struggled in my grasp, failing miserably to escape. Still holding her, I looked back at Frankie and Jasmine, who nervously backed off. A huge crowd of kids gathered around to watch Kayley suffer, because let's face it, that's what they wanted to see. Nobody liked the little bitch.

I gritted my teeth and was still panting hard as I held her against the wall by her collar. Although my anger was high, I also felt a sense of unusual pride, knowing the strength I had and that I was in full control of the little cunt. Red was everywhere as I continued to be in full control, making Kayley whimper in my grasp.

"Have fun doing that, did you?" I questioned her, my words spitting in her face. "Have fun pushing me to the ground, did you?"

"Let me go, Napier, you freak!" she cried.

"I am _not _a freak! I'm sick of you! Why'd you pick on me, huh?" She couldn't answer that, so instead she just gasped for air. "_I'm_ stupid?" I continued. "Who's the stupid one now?"

My head was getting more and more worked up.

It took a while for a teacher to come running over. Unfortunately for me, it was Mr. Boyd, the principal.

"Shaylee Napier!" he yelled.

I groaned loudly, refusing to put Kayley down. "But Sir…" I shouted.

"Put her down, this minute!" he snapped.

I let out a shrill scream as I let her go. She fell to her knees, coughing loudly. Frankie and Jasmine immediately ran to her aid, as did many other kids. Most of them backed away as I glared at them like I was some sort of demon. Panting fast, I looked back at Kayley, who had started crying on Jasmine's shoulder. Pathetic.

Mr. Boyd then tried to calm me down by touching my shoulders, but that only made it worse.

"_Don't touch me_!" I roared.

I put my hands to my head as I glanced down at my torn apart picture on the floor. I burst into tears as I fell to my knees, screaming, attempting to block out the raging noise in my head. Many kids tried to help me up but I screamed at all of them.

"Right, everyone back inside right now!" Mr. Boyd ordered. "Back to class. Leave her alone." I then looked up to find him walking over to a whimpering Kayley, who he helped up. "Take her to my office," he told Frankie and Jasmine. "I'll inform Mr. Truman what's happened."

"Yes, Mr. Boyd," they said in unison.

I furiously watched them walking away with their arms around Kayley's shoulders, enraged that they'd got away with it.

No, _no_. _Don't let her get away with it, Shaylee._

I grabbed a ripped piece of my drawing and leaped to my feet. I attempted to run after them, but Mr. Boyd held me back.

"_I hate you, Kayley Lyons_!" I screamed, fighting to get past Mr. Boyd's grasp.

"Shaylee!" he shouted. "To my office right now!"

I grunted loudly. "Let _go _of me!"

"Office! Now! You can explain yourself there!"

"Oh I'll give you an explanation, alright!" I shouted at him.

I was marched to his office, where Kayley and the others were waiting, too. They looked terrified of me, so they should. Kayley's eyes were red from crying. I slumped down in the chair next to them, putting my head in my hands, breathing in and out, attempting to calm myself down. Mr. Boyd sat down at his desk.

"Shaylee, look up please," he demanded.

"No," I retorted, clutching onto my head.

"Look up."

"No! I'm calming myself down, Mr. Boyd!"

I took several deep breaths has the voices went quieter, and the humming inside my head went softer. I angrily wiped my tears away as I finally looked up at Mr. Boyd, before turning my head away from all of them. Looking at their faces would only make it worse.

"Now, girls," he said, trying to sound calmer. "Is this...Shaylee, look at me, please." I reluctantly looked at him, giving him that uncomfortable stare. "Is this really a good way to start the year?"

"She started it," I muttered.

"Quiet," he snapped. "I don't care who started it. You need to realise, Miss Napier, your behaviour was totally unacceptable."

"So was hers," I retorted.

"Oh, shut up, Shaylee," Jasmine said.

"No, I won't," I answered back. "You guys were the ones who made me angry. It was _their _fault, Mr. Boyd. If they had leaven me be then I wouldn't have got worked up, but they pushed me to do it."

"Is this true, Kayley?" Mr. Boyd asked.

"No, Sir," Kayley said, pretending to be all sweetness and light.

"She's a liar!" I yelled.

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are! Sir, trust me, yeah? They came over and started picking on me and they tore up my picture." I pulled out a creased up bit of paper from my pocket. "Look!" I cried, lifting it up. "Didn't you see the paper on the floor? Kayley did that! That's why I got angry."

Kayley was now looking down at her hands. Mr. Boyd looked at me, curiously.

"Is this true?" he asked Kayley.

"Tell him the truth, Kayley," I taunted.

I never let dad's advice leave my head. I had to prove I was no longer the victim. To show her true colours. That's what dad did day in and day out: showed people's true colours. I wasn't going to let her get away with it anymore. I wasn't weak, I had just proven it, that I could be in control and that I could intimidate people. I couldn't wait to tell dad when I got home. He always taught me to defend myself in any way possible.

I stared at Kayley, with my arms folded.

"Yes," she mumbled. "Yeah, it's true."

"See?" I said, triumphantly.

"Mind your attitude, Miss Napier," Mr. Boyd said, glaring at me. "Kayley, you know we don't tolerate behaviour like that. We all like to be friendly with each other here and it upsets me we have to deal with bullying like this."

"I wasn't bullying her," Kayley said, darting her head up at him. "I just wanted to see her picture, and she wouldn't let me."

"Sometimes, Kayley, people like to keep things private…"

"I know, but…"

"Let me finish. There was no need for that, now was there?" Kayley shook her head, and looked down at her lap, embarrassed.

Mr. Boyd was talking to her like a three year old, being so calm and nice, yet he was being all snappy with me. I told you there was favouritism in that school. Every time Kayley and I had gotten into a fight, which was _always _her fault, she was always the one who was the poor innocent victim and I was the horrible monster. But before that day, I couldn't be bothered defending myself because I was so used to being punished. I wasn't letting that happen this time.

Mr. Boyd then addressed Jasmine and Frankie. "And the same applies for you two," he said. "I don't want to her anymore of this nonsense with bullying. I'm tired of having to deal with it. I'm gravelly disappointed in all three of you, especially on the third day back of your final year. It's not good enough. If I hear anymore of it, I'll be ringing your parents, is that clear?"

They all nodded vigorously.

I was now ginning, knowing I had achieved showcasing their true pitiful selves. My head had almost completely calmed now. Mr. Boyd then addressed me, who still had my arms folded and not giving a care in the world.

"And as for you, Shaylee," he said, "I don't want to see anymore of that disgusting behaviour in my school, you understand?"

Dad's personality was now starting to come out of me. "Yeah, that's fair enough," I replied, still grinning. "As long as they don't come near me. You have to understand sir, I'm only like that when someone pushes me to be like that. They did that. Not me. Besides, sir, you _know _I have little anger problems, don't you? So you can't exactly stop it, can you?"

"I can't, but I can tell you to leave each other alone."

"That's great! That's _exactly _what I want!"

Mr. Boyd sighed as he gave up on the argument. "Okay, off you go, back to your class. All four of you will receive detention after school with me."

I looked at him in disgust. "But sir!"

"Don't argue with me, Shaylee! You've all done things wrong today and therefore is only fair if you all receive detention."

He sent us away after that. Usually after a meeting in the principal's office, I would come out feeling miserable, but this time, I felt happy. Nothing else. Just simply happy. I smirked at the three of them as we continued our lesson in class, to which they responded by scowling at me.

There were no more giggles and pointing in class from them anymore. In fact, Kayley, Frankie and Jasmine didn't torment me at all after that day. I felt so proud of myself, knowing that I made them scared of me so they would leave me alone. After my lash out that day, many more kids stayed well away from me. That was how I liked it. Kayley looked so pathetic when she walked past me in the corridor, looking so weak and wretched.

I was no longer a victim.

When I told dad that afternoon, he was unbelievably proud. He didn't care that I nearly hit a girl, he didn't care I got a detention and I was late coming home from school. He simply cared about the fact I'd defended myself and shown their true colours, even if I _was _showing threatening behaviour and my behavioural problems were becoming clearer. I hadn't seen him so happy in a long time.

"Ah-ha! _That's _my girl!" he exclaimed, as he roughly hugged me from around the back. "Show that Kayley a piece of your mind, did ya?!"

"I certainly did!" I said, proudly. "It wasn't _my _fault though, I said that to Mr. Boyd and he finally saw what a bully she really is. She pushed me to it, I got _so _angry."

"Ahh, it's okay, princess!" Dad said. "We _know _you have a little problem with anger. She should have known that by now, shouldn't she? Silly girl. Shouldn't mess with my Shaylee."

Just for that, dad went and stole $200 for me the next afternoon. I spent it on new clothes, buying this super awesome purple jacket that looked a bit like dad's large coat, and also some boots, something mom never let me have. I wore that jacket all the time. It made some girls in school actually talk to me, just so they could know where to buy it from. It almost became a crime for me _not _to wear it.

The year school year continued like any other typical year, except now I didn't fight, because Kayley left me alone after that day. Mr. Truman actually didn't turn out to be that bad. He actually understood my ADHD, obviously aware I had it. He didn't shout at me like Miss Woodville did, he actually took his time to help me, even if I was completely uninterested.

Lunchtimes and break times were just not the same without Chase. I dreadfully missed our conversations and sharing our masterpieces of art. I often called him on dad's cell phone when he gave me the chance, and we still maintained a strong friendship. Dad finally let me go round to his house one night, now he finally knew he could trust me going out by myself. Mrs. Delancey, Chase's mom, dyed my hair that night, while the rest of the time me and Chase were glued to this crime video game, which Chase taught me how to play. I _so _wanted an Xbox after that day but wouldn't let me. He said if I wanted to experience real crime, to view it through a video game wasn't as thrilling as it is in real life.

That final art project Chase had told me about was actually pretty decent, like he said. We had four whole weeks to complete it, and I finished it within the first week because I couldn't put it down. Even dad was interested in it, letting me paint it every night after he came home when we watched an action movie together.

Although I missed Chase, my final year at Little Hill Elementary actually wasn't that bad. Well, there was the day when I walked in with my new black hair, which I got a hammering for by Mr. Boyd, saying it's totally against the rules. Some kids laughed at me but of course I couldn't give a damn. But what were they going to do? Tie me to a chair and drain the dye out of my hair? No. Dad ignored all the reports saying it was prohibited anyway. I guess I enjoyed my final year because no one bothered me after that day I lashed out in front of everyone, as a lot of kids were too scared to talk to me. Kayley tried to provoke me now and then but I tended to laugh it off, just like dad did.

Speaking of dad, he never did get round to dyeing his hair green, which I was actually kind of disappointed by. In his own words, he said all good things come to those who wait. He asked me to draw him new Joker card designs all the time, which I did, and he was very happy with all of them. Sometimes he took the smaller version with him when he went out doing his thing.

On my 11th birthday that April, dad took me out to the City to visit a travelling circus. I didn't understand how he could afford it, but that didn't bother me. Despite the fact it was April, he still went dressed up in thick clothing, wearing a baseball cap and covering his face. I knew why, it was because he was still paranoid he was going to be identified by the police. The show itself was okay, only entertaining me when there was an explosion or when an acrobat nearly tripped an injured themselves. Things like that always cracked me up.

But then the clown sequence was about to come up, and that's when dad grabbed my arm.

"Come on, Shaylee, we're going," he said, standing up.

I didn't budge from my seat. "What? Dad, why are we going?"

"Because I'm not watching this bit."

"Why not?"

"Shaylee, come on, we're leaving. _Now_."

He glanced at the stage with a frightened look. That was enough for me to move. Grabbing my bag I took his hand and he dragged me through the theatre, before barging through the exit door. He looked quite flustered all the way home. I was shocked when he decided to get a bus back to the town, and when we did, he made us sit right at the back and made me cuddle up to him, while he covered my face.

That evening, while I was finishing off my birthday cake, I asked, "Dad, why _did _we have to rush out of the circus?"

Dad sighed as he put down his own plate. "Clowns, honey. I don't like them. Not one bit."

I widened my eyes at him. "You're scared of clowns?" I asked, in shock.

He looked down, embarrassed. "Yes, yes _I am_."

"I thought you weren't scared of anything."

"My mother took me to the circus as a child and I screamed the place down when I saw a clown. When my father found out, he laughed in my face, just like the clown had. He reminded me very much of the horror I'd seen onstage. He tells me I need to be a man, to grow up. I tell ya, Shaylee, it's _not nice_."

I decided to say no more about it.

It took a while for me to get used to not having mom around. I guess, in a way, it helped, because I didn't have to argue with anybody and I didn't get angry all the time. Dad was smoking more than ever now, which I begged him to stop, but he failed miserably. He even started smoking in the flat. I hated it when dad was stressed, so I didn't dare try and make him angry. I'm not that stupid.

The end of my elementary school days came round quicker than I ever imagined. I felt very peculiar when we finished. All the other kids had their parents supporting them in the leaver's assembly, but my dad didn't come. Not because he didn't care, but because I didn't want him to come. I didn't think of him as embarrassing, but, the thing is, he appeared to be turning crazier as the days rolled by. I won't go into detail, but, one thing I should say is, he came home later and later. I was totally unaware what he was doing, but he came home and most of the time, he was still clutching onto a gun or a knife. It was like he couldn't let go.

Summer vacation and dad let me go and hang out with Chase in the town shopping centre. He was twelve now, but he looked much older than that. I still looked about nine years old, even though I was eleven. Luckily, Chase said he just wanted me and him to hang out, not letting his new friends come out, too.

About halfway through the summer break, we hung out one day in the late afternoon. Chase's mom was out working late hours, and dad was away doing something or other. We took a break, sitting on a wall near the small little shops not far from our flat.

"So what's high school like?" I asked him.

"It's okay I suppose," he replied. "I've met some cool people. I have quite a few friends. All of them boys, though. All the girls there are totally boring."

"Oh, great," I said. "Looks like I'll have to hang out with boys only then."

Chase laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure my pals will love you."

"Probably not."

"Hey, if I like you then they will. You're the coolest girl I've ever met."

"Aw, thanks, Chase."

"So how's things with your dad?"

"Great, great. He's started smoking again though, I hate it. He took me to the circus for my birthday and I found out he's afraid of clowns."

"Really? Your dad?"

"I know, right? Clowns aren't scary."

"You don't find anything scary, though."

"I'm finding going to high school pretty scary."

"Ah, you'll cope fine. It's not even that bad when you get used to it. So your dad's letting you come to Gotham High?"

"Yeah, because he knows how much I hated Little Hill, he said he would never let me go to their high school. He said he wants me to go to the City more, anyway."

"Maybe we could meet at the bus station every morning and sit together on the bus? I have no one, so it'd be nice to…"

"Okay!"

Chase chuckled. "Oh good." He touched my hair. "Still can't believe my mom dyed your hair for you."

"Yeah, I'm so happy she did. I love it so much."

"I know. You suit black hair better. We look like we could be related."

We both shared as a laugh as we spent another hour deep in conversation. I was so grateful to have a friend like him. Someone who didn't care about the way I dressed, or how I acted. He was just there for _me_. I told him about how I was coping with mom. Sitting on a wall opposite the place where she was shot flooded back everything. Dad had told me Harleen was sentenced in Arkham for nine years. Really? Nine years? She downright murdered someone! And not just anyone, a mother! And someone who was supposed to be her friend…

It got to a point when Chase's cell phone bleeped with a text message.

"Ooh, better get this," he said, getting his phone out.

"You're so lucky you have a phone," I told him.

"Yeah," he said, flipping his phone open. "It's my mom's old one." He read his message and a disappointed look came upon his face.

"What is it? Who's messaged you?" I asked.

"My mom. She wants me home. Suppose I better get back."

"Oh. Okay," I answered, sadly.

"You okay getting home?"

"Yeah, it's only down there."

"Okay, well, see you soon?"

"Totally."

"Okay, tiger."

He then did something he'd never done before. He pulled me into a hug before quickly moving away again. I was so stunned I that I couldn't say goodbye to him as he walked away.

Dad wasn't home when I arrived back at the flat so I flipped on the TV whilst I tried out mom's old makeup on her dressing table. I always used the same red and pinks, so I rummaged through the doors to see if I could find anything more interesting. Right at the very bottom, I found a single black lipstick, which I stared at in awe for a few moments. I drew it on my lips, drawing my black hair behind my ear. I smiled at myself as I actually thought it suited me. I hid that lipstick in my clothes drawer with my socks, keeping it safe.

The rest of the summer vacation went too quickly. I spent most of it drawing new designs and ideas, as well as accessorising myself. Dad promised me on my next birthday I could get my ears pierced, another thing that mom forbid me to do. Dad also stole me the money to get new things for starting Gotham High. I chose very carefully, buying myself a cute purple handbag instead of a backpack, a series of thick ink pens and a collection of notepads.

Then the day finally came around. Dad woke me up especially early, knocking on my door and creaking it open, slowly.

"Oh _Shay-lee_!" he called in a silly voice.

I groaned and struggled to open my eyes.

"Is it morning _already_?" I sighed.

"Certainly is. Come _on_. It's your first day of being a proper high school student!"

I didn't want to look like a scruff for my first day, so I chose my purple jacket, with my black and white legging and bat-patterned jumper, complete with my large sneakers. I spent half an hour doing my makeup with mom's things, and also putting up my dyed black hair in a ponytail, to look somewhat intelligent. My eyelashes looked like spiders' legs with amount of mascara I used. I used all the stuff: conditioner, eyeliner, eye shadow and of course that black lipstick. I gathered my stuff and revealed myself to dad in the kitchen, who was busy preparing himself, putting a knife in his pocket.

"I'm ready," I said, montone.

Dad wheeled around. "Aw, Shaylee," he whispered, walking over to me. "Well don't you look gorgeous? Simply adorable." He flicked my nose, making me giggle. "So grown up. Very gothic, aren't you?"

"Who wants to be like everyone else?" I said.

"Too right, sweetie," Dad agreed. "I can't believe my _little girl_ is goin' to high school."

"I can't believe it, either."

Dad glanced up at the clock. "Ooh, crap, you better go," he said. "Gotta bus to catch, remember?"

I looked up at the clock, too. I gasped and quickly dashed into the corridor.

"Bye, dad!" I called as I opened the front door.

"Ah-da-da-da….Shaylee?" Dad said.

I held the door open. "Yes?"

"Doesn't your old man get a hug first?" I sighed and rushed into a hug. He held me close. "And remember," he said, importantly, stroking my hair. "Don't let anyone get the better of you. Remember you're a big tough little girl, hmm?"

"Of course, dad."

"Very good. Now, go on."

He lightly kissed my forehead and I dashed out the road.

Chase kept his promise and was waiting for me at the bus stop. He was waiting there with a boy I didn't recognise, but that didn't phase me. I got a lot of stares as I walked over to Chase, but I didn't care.

"Hi, Chase," I greeted, giving a little wave.

"Oh, hi, Shaylee!" Chase said, enthusiastically, giving me a high five. "How are ya?"

"Good, good. Bit nervous, but…"

"Ah, don't be." Chase then looked at the other boy, who was looking at me, interestingly. "Oh, uh, Shaylee, this is Tom. Tom, Shaylee…the girl I told you about."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"And you," Tom said, smiling at me. He was creepily examining me from head to toe.

The yellow school bus soon arrived and we sat right at the front. I sat near the window, and Chase at right next to me, like he promised. The journey takes around 35 minutes and when we arrived, Chase immediately showed me around the gigantic school. It was like entering another world, with the endless corridors and numerious classes. There were pictures dotted around everywhere, displaying the school's achievements. Me and Chase got some weird looks walking down the corridor, to which I responded by waving and winking at the boys. And of course I spotted the cliques straight away: the nerds, the skater people, the goofy dorks, the jocks and the emos to name a few. Chase and Tom showed me to the assembly hall, as that's where I needed to be, but he had to go straight to class, leaving me feel a little awkward.

"Here we are," he said, as we reached the hall. "All first years have to come here to know their teachers and stuff like that. They'll tell you everything."

"Okay, well, thanks Chase, Tom," I said.

"That's okay. At break times, we hang around the little corner near the science labs. They're easy to find. Come find us."

"Okay, sure."

"See you later then."

"See ya."

So, the day went on like any other first day. I was given a timetable for the year, like every other kid and we were introduced to the principal, this time a woman called Mrs. Quaid. She seemed okay at a first glance, someone I could easily take on. Most of the kids seemed that way, too.

My very first class was Religious Studies at 9am. But it gets worse. I eventually found my way to the classroom and who do I see when I walk in? Kayley Lyons. Sitting there at the front with a huge grin on her face. I wanted to kill myself.

Kayley turned out to be in a lot of my classes, as we had the same 'level of ability', which wasn't a lot. Little Hill had informed Gotham High about my behavioural problems, and so they kept an annoyingly close eye on me throughout the year. Kayley was highly irritating as always, showing off to all the boys in every class, making my stomach turn.

The school appeared to be pretty decent, easy to follow around and it seemed to be successful. Even to me it seemed like it wouldn't be a hell hole. The food wasn't even that bad, either, with the cafeteria offering all sorts of things every day, satisfying me, who didn't always eat three meals a day.

On my first lunchtime, it didn't take me long to find Chase in the exact place he'd told me. I approached them, nervously clinging onto my bag. They were all male, all appearing to be the kind of boys who were class clowns and serious rebels.

Chase spotted me walking towards them, and greeted me with a little wave.

"Shaylee!" he called.

All the other boys darted their heads in my direction, some of them opening their eyes, looking highly impressed, making me more confident.

"Hi," I said, quietly.

"Guys, this is Shaylee, the girl I told you about?" Chase said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Wow, dude, is she really younger than us?" one guy asked.

"Yeah she is," Tom said. "She's eleven."

I nodded in reassurance. Some of them started to laugh.

"Wow, you look way older," another guy said, circling around me, eyeing me like I was his new possession. I felt my heart beating.

"I always thought I looked like a baby," I said.

They all started to laugh again. "Nah, you look older," the guy insisted.

"That's Alex," Chase said, giving him a little push. "He's a nutter. Just take no notice of him."

I giggled. "Hi, Alex."

"And you already know Tom, he's from the town, like us," Chase continued. He then pointed to a guy with glasses. "That's Matty…and this is Jason…" he finally pointed to the only black guy in the group, "and this is Chris."

"Hi, guys," I said, smirking. I was starting to get interested. To took a large bite from my sandwich.

"So you're from the town?" Chris asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Shit hole," Tom laughed.

We laughed with him.

"Yeah, full of pricks," Chase said, leaning against the wall.

"Not _everyone's _a prick," I said. I widened my eyes. I couldn't believe I'd just sworn. But dad wasn't there, so it didn't matter.

"Yeah, they are, Shaylee," Chase said, making everyone crack up again. "It's much better here in the City."

"I _so _wanna live here," I explained. "I hate living in Gotham Town."

"This place has its faults, too," said Jason. "Full of assholes."

"Yeah," I sighed.

"So what makes you wanna hang around with a load of boys, Shaylee?" Alex asked, giving me a weird, almost perverted look again.

"It's less drama," I said. "Most girls annoy the hell out of me. They're all so annoying. I just live with my dad, so you know, I'm used to just men."

"Why? Where's ya mom?" Matty asked.

I paused. "She's dead."

They stared at Matty, Chase hitting him on the head.

"I told you, Matty!" he hissed. "I told you she don't have a mom, didn't I? I told you _not _bring it up."

"Matty always making things awkward," Tom explained.

"It's okay, you know," I said.

It was clear to see I'd found my group of friends just on the first day. Yeah, they were all boys, and yeah they were all a year older, but, it didn't matter. They all had different personalities and even though they were class clowns, they didn't make fun of me because I was a girl. Chase told them to shut up if they did. I was smarter than most of them, as was Chase. Alex was the one always talking about girls, which was quite creepy considering he was only twelve. Well, they all turned thirteen during the year anyway, Alex turning thirteen first. Chris was into break dancing, even showing me a few tricks. Matty was the awkward dweeb who we just tolerated because he had no other friends, but I still got on with him great. Jason was the next most intelligent after Chase, who when he could be bothered, was really smart at science. As for Tom, well he was just always getting into trouble. I could guess he'd be the first one out of all of us to get suspended. I didn't make many friends from my own year because none of them bothered with me.

The only girl I seemed to get along with was a girl called Chelsea Archer. She had ADHD, like me, so that's one way we could connect. I sat next to her in all the classes we were, cracking me up when she argued with the teachers. Chelsea was useless at art, though, constantly copying me in class. She was great, but she was really someone who could get me through class.

My real friends were the gang of boys.

They made me feel so much more comfortable in my first year, they actually made me look forward to going to school. The boys were really nice to me and made me feel welcome, but I still remained the closest to Chase. Chase and I still shared our art techniques, which some of the guys made fun of him, calling him a nerd, but I soon dealt with them. Like I said, I wasn't a girl to be crossed. I wasn't a victim anymore.

I proved that one day, just before the Christmas holidays. It was lunchtime and we were all hanging outside. Alex had just turned thirteen, and so he was the self-appointed 'leader' of our gang. We were watching some of the bully jocks playing soccer, when one of them carelessly kicked the ball in our direction, until it hit my right in my face. Some of the boys spluttered into giggles when it happened, but Chase hugged me.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he asked.

"No, I'm not!" I cried.

The ball had hit me right in the face, but it triggered my mind racking. It started to get louder, my anger quickly erupting.

Chase stormed over to the guy who had kicked the ball, with me closely behind, clutching my injured face.

"Oi!" Chase yelled. "Watch what you're doing, idiot!"

"It was an accident, little boy!" the jock yelled back, with his friends laughing behind him.

"That could have hit my fucking eyes out!" I yelled at him.

"Ooh, sorry, little girl, my bad!"

He started laughing again, making my blood boil.

"Little girl? Who do you think you're talking to, you disrespectful cunt?!" I was now right up to him, and he continued to laugh into my face, below him. The language you learn in high school was unbelievable. "You think it's funny, do you?" My voice was now turning soft and dangerous, just like dad's when he was angry.

"Relax, little kid, it was an accident!" he shouted.

"I don't care if it was! It messed with my head!"

"Messed with your head?" he laughed. "Watch out for this one, guys, she's a little badass!"

That's when it happened. The anger exploded. He was a big guy, much older and taller, so I couldn't pin him down, so instead, I slapped him hard across the face. And I mean, very hard. That startled him, as it nearly knocked him over completely. I heard the boys cheering behind me, and I looked back on them, grinning.

"Whoa, what the _fuck_?" the jock cried, holding his face. "Little shit!"

He raised his hand but Chase grabbed it. I'd completely forgotten he was still beside me.

"You gonna hit a girl?" Chase asked. He reminded me of dad the way he threatened people. "Gonna be the big man and hit a younger kid?"

Chase then made my head calmer, as he kicked the guy in the balls, making me fall about laughing. I instantly felt better. I laughed so hard up until the point it almost sounded insane.

Chase and I high-fived the other guys as we joined them again. We were all laughing hysterically.

"What a muppet!" Jason laughed.

"That was awesome, Shaylee," Alex said, attempting to put his arm around me.

"Get off me, shitface," I laughed at him. "And yeah, I know. I wasn't just gonna stand here and let him laugh at me and just not say sorry."

"He never said sorry," Matty said, making us all groan.

"I don't care anymore," I said.

"Come on, guys, let's go science lab," Alex said, leading us all around the corner. "Tired of watching those wannabe badasses."

I told dad about the little incident when I got home, and he couldn't stop laughing.

"Well, you certainly taught him a lesson, didn't ya, honey?!" he cried.

"You said not to let anyone get the better of me, so I didn't," I replied.

Dad stroked my cheek, proudly. "And that's what makes a strong girl," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Those guys are teaching you a thing or two, aren't they, huh?"

"Yeah, they're awesome."

"They certainly _sound _it, sweetie."

Dad and I both burst into beautiful laughter.

My first year at Gotham High was surprisingly enjoyable, since I found my group of friends and remained close to Chase. Dad would allow me to hang around with them on weekends, but he didn't let me bring them round to our flat. When I turned twelve, we all had a big celebration in the park, where Chris tried to show me dance routine and Chase painted a beautiful painting for me. Dad took me out again, but this time we went to visit Larry at the tavern. We didn't stay though, he cooked us a meal and we left. It was a wonderful birthday. For once in my crazy life, I actually was so happy. I was happy in school, happy with dad and even happy with my education, even if I had argue with the teachers and struggle to concentrate, but again, it wasn't my fault. It was the ADHD.

Even though we were what the older generation would consider the "bad kids", we still had a strong friendship. They would always look out for, as I did for them. We remained in contact during the next summer vacation, but which time they had all become teenagers and I had, like I said, was now twelve years old. Chase still had a good relationship with his mom, even though she didn't approve of our friends. My dad didn't care, though. He just wanted me to be happy, and I think he was overjoyed seeing me happy, for once in my life full of madness. We continued having campfire nights, where he would often talk about Harleen. Her various attempts to escape from Arkham had been all over the news, making dad seem slightly worried almost.

During that summer break, dad had collected a whole new range of guns. He said he got them from Larry, but I didn't believe it. I presumed he made a deal with someone to get those. The little handgun I'd used when I was eight was disposed of, and dad replaced it with a larger one. He let me take one on some occasions, but that was only when I went out by myself. Dad also finally dyed his hair green, which didn't suit him at all, to be honest. Especially with his tanned skin tone and his brown eyes. But he seemed to very pleased with it, as he used a comb more often, and he also never failed take my Joker card designs out with him, the one with the laughing devil being his favourite.

I'd never been so excited to start a new year at school in my life, and my second year at Gotham High started out very well. I was put in the top class for art, unfortunately being separated from Chelsea, but at least I didn't get distracted from my drawings as much. Now all the guys were thirteen going on fourteen, of course they wouldn't shut up about girls they thought had a nice ass. I remember feeling sick when Jason said he thought Kayley Lyons was hot. Chase was very quiet about it, though, he only ever seemed to compliment me.

I guess I did start to develop a little crush.

Alex was the first guy in the gang who started smoking, and so all of them started too. Chase was the last one to try, as he was scared about what his mom would say. I desperately tried to stay away, but it got to the point where they started taking the piss out of me for not trying, and so I eventually tried one to shut them up. That was in May, when I had just turned thirteen. I know, I know, every kid who starts smoking say they'll just have one little cigarette, and before you know it, they're addicted. I didn't dare tell dad I'd started smoking. I had to be sneaky when smoking in the flat, taking one outside when I needed to relax. They were especially good after I'd just lashed out at somebody, to help me and my mind relax until the noises and sounds vanished.

Unfortunately, my happiness at Gotham High wouldn't last.

It was one lunch break, and I had a detention for 'being disrespectful towards staff', when I argued with my chemistry teacher the day before. I had to write out lines in the science lab, but instead I took the opportunity to doodle.

Turns out this very science lab was the one where Kayley Lyons and her new friends hung around at lunchtimes, which I was totally unaware of. Lunchtime had just began, and I has drawn a thousand swirls on the page already when Kayley came in with her friends. I groaned under my breath when I saw her crying like wimp again. Her two friends sat her down and one slowly rubbed her arm, soothingly.

"Come on, tell us what's up, Kayley," one of them said.

"Yeah, calm down, and tell us what's happened."

I wasn't interested in what Kayley Lyons was whinging about, so I carried on with my patterns, however, I carried on listening to her pathetic cries. They seemed to be totally oblivious that I was in the room, but thankfully, they had shut the door behind them when they came in.

"I just miss him _so much_," Kayley whimpered, almost sounding like she was faking her crying.

"We know, we know, babe," one of her friends said.

"But I just keep _hearing _him…it's like he's still talking to me."

I shot my head up, but they still didn't notice me.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Kayley sniffled, "since…since he died…I've been hearing his voice inside my head, and I think I can see him at night."

I stared at her, curiously. What did she mean 'she could hear his voice inside her head'? What, like I could hear voices inside mine? Funny that. I actually _have a reason_ to hear voices, but I have a _disorder_. Kayley was completely normal. She didn't know what it was like, to _actually hear voice_. I felt a gush of anger, inspecting her face carefully. I noticed that there were hardly any tears coming out of eyes.

"Aw, Kayley, it's because he's still with you," one of her friends said, putting her arm around her. Kayley pretended to cry into her hands.

"But…but…it's just haunting me," Kayley whined.

I couldn't hold back anymore.

"Haunting you?" I said.

They darted their heads towards me, who was trying to remain calm, but I was gripping onto my pen.

"Her grandpa died this weekend," one of her friends explained, talking to me like I was an idiot.

"Oh, right," I said, plainly. "And…and you say you can _hear him_, right?"

Kayley nodded at me. I slammed my pen down on the desk and put my hands against my head, before glaring at the three of them. I tried to make myself laugh so I didn't start shouting, biting onto my tongue.

"It's not funny, you know," the other friend snapped at me.

"Oh I know, I know…" I answered. "No it's not. I'm sorry about your grandpa, Kayley. I never knew mine. Apparently was a terrible man, anyway, but I'm sure yours was a great man. I can hear my mom, sometimes you know. But that's when I get angry. You know? But _can _hear her, because, well, I can _actually _hear voices…"

"You calling me a liar?" Kayley asked.

"Oh no, no. Tell me, what is your grandfather saying to you exactly, hmm?" That struck Kayley. She mumbled but no words came out. That's because she couldn't answer. Gotcha. "You see, I can remember _everything _my mom says to me inside my head. She says, 'Shaylee, did you remember to do your homework?' 'Shaylee, I'm going to find your father!' 'Shaylee, your father is not the hero you think he is, you know!' Thing is, Kayley, I have this problem…which I have actually been diagnosed with…and when I get…._emotional_…I can hear 'em. But I can remember what they're saying. So, can you _actually _hear your grandpa talking?"

"Yes!"

"And what's he saying, then?"

"He's saying…uh…"

"Hmm?"

"Oh, just leave her alone and get some respect!" one of her friends yelled at me.

"What respect for someone who's lying about hearing voices when some people _actually can _and suffer badly from it? I don't think so."

"You're such a twat!" Kayley shouted.

"Maybe, but at least I don't lie about hearing voices."

I started to feel my blood boil as Kayley marched over to me, getting right into my face. I tried to show no expression in my face, as much as I wanted to beat the shit out of her right then.

"My grandpa fucking dies and you call me a liar?!" she yelled in my face.

"Have I disrespected your grandpa at all? No. I've simply said I don't believe you can hear voices. This is coming from someone _who can_. It's nothing to lie about and get attention from! It's serious! It's a terrible illness that people can't escape!"

"How do we know _you're _not lying then, Shaylee?"

I suddenly punched her right in the face with a loud scream, making Kayley fumble backwards and fall on her back. Her head banged against the front desk. She struggled to her knees, starting to whimper again. Her two friends backed away, looking totally startled. I'd never felt so angry in all my life.

"You two can fuck off!" I screamed at them.

I didn't have to tell them twice. They rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind them. How cruel of them to leave their friend at the mercy of me, whose anger was twinkling in my eyes. I grabbed Kayley by her collar like I had done in elementary school, and pinned her against the wooden desk, glaring at the lying little attention seeker.

My head was wailing, so many voices screaming what I should do to her. Some even told me to kill her, but…I couldn't. I heard mom and dad yelling at each other, making me scrunch my eyes to block it out. I was showing Kayley how it _really _felt to have voices.

"Shut up!" I shouted.

"I…I didn't say anything…" Kayley cried.

"_You _can shut up too!" I screamed, spitting her face. I didn't care if I was caught. I couldn't have controlled it anyway. My mind was in control, now. Nothing else.

"What?"

"Shush, shush, shush…" I was beginning to sound like dad. "You don't know…what it's like….to have _voices_. _Real ones_. That…ahhh…that tell you what to do! They're the most evil thing in the world…there to make your life a misery, Kayley. I _hate _liars and people who pretend to have it when they don't." I took a deep breath. "Schizophrenia isn't funny. So _don't you dare pretend you have it when you don't_."

"What? Have what…?"

"Shut up! Quiet down, now…"

Then I glanced at the wooden desk, next to Kayley's terrified face, with her tears rolling. Not so much the big bully now, was she?

Then I remembered I had dad's lighter in my pocket, that I had snuck in.

_Go on, Shaylee. You know how much you adore pretty fires._

Dad's evil smirk appeared on my lips as my mind took over me more than ever.


	10. Chapter 9 - Freedom

*****FINALLY, Chapter 9 is here! Haven't uploaded in two weeks, but...been busy boggled down with school work and I finally got round to finishing this today. I didn't intend for it to be so goddamn long, and it is the longest chapter yet, but...oh well :P Deal with it. I don't know, maybe you'll like that, but I had a lot to fit in, plus I just couldn't stop XD**

**PLEASE READ: I also was informed that I have made an error regarding the school years of Shaylee, as this is set in America (I've been using the British system because I'm a dunce :P). She in fact moves onto _middle school_ at 11, not high school! That is why there are some changes in this chapter regarding the school names and the years and stuff like that! I have also added this to the previous chapter so it makes more sense. I want to thank that person who informed me! :D**

**NOTE: As usual, there is twisted fluff coming up! ****This chapter does contain strong language, violence and threat. Because you know, that's how Shaylee rolls XD**

**Hope you like :D*****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Freedom <strong>

Kayley remained gasping in my clutch as I continued to grin at her. Tears were beginning to roll down her face.

_You love fire, Shaylee_.

For once, the voices actually spoke the truth.

The anger was still boiling inside of me, higher than it ever had been in my life. My brain was banging and I could feel tears coming out from my own eyes. My tears were different to Kayley's. Mine were actually filled with emotion and pain, hers were nothing but fakery, which just made my skin crawl even more.

It began to take control of me. It was turning me into a monster.

I suddenly grabbed Kayley by her long, blonde hair, forcefully turning her around and I violently slammed her head on the desk with an almighty thump. Kayley screamed in my grasp, but I was soon about to overpower her.

"_Tell me what he's saying_!" I screamed. "_Tell me_!"

"Let _go _of me!" she whimpered like a damsel.

"_No_!"

I scrunched my eyes closed and carefully tried to listen to what my voices were yelling at me.

_You can take her on. You can start a fire, Shaylee. Don't let her get away with it._

"Let me go, Shaylee, please!" Kayley cried.

Surprisingly, I did so, throwing her to the ground where she fell on her front. She whimpered into the floor, her golden curls covering her face. She gently pushed it back over her ear, sniffling and wiping her tears, trembling. Whilst she was laying helpless on the floor, I put my hands on my head and tried to take deep breaths. Nothing worked because dad wasn't there to calm me, and he was the _only _person who could. Not even Chase could control my anger.

That voice lingered in my head.

_Fire_.

I patted my jean pocket, keeping my other hand clutching my head. I dug into it, and twiddled with dad's lighter with my fingers. Gripping it tight, I closed my watery eyes, as tears raced down my cheeks. Kayley had managed to get herself off the floor, and I darted around to find her heading for the door.

My mind racked until I could barely remember where I was.

"Don't _fucking _walk out!" I shrieked as I stormed over and threw her down onto the floor again.

"Just leave me _alone_, Shaylee!" she yelled, as she looked up at me, her makeup smudging horrifically on her face.

"Leave you alone?" I said, calmly. The monster made me burst into callous laughter. "Leave you _alone_?! Ha! Wonder who's the victim _now_, eh, Lyons?"

I was still grabbing onto the lighter in my pocket. With my head still guiding me, I glanced around to room to see any punishments for the deceitful liar. My head was telling me to show her who was in control.

I was going to show her alright.

Taking a deep breath, I sauntered over to the worktable, where all the stuff for experiments are kept. The table had recently been refurbished, made from the finest wood. I stood by it, stroking it, admiringly. Next to the table were a couple of large, black bin bags, filled with old bits of newspaper that had carelessly been left there after an experiment we did the day before.

I pulled out the lighter from my pocket, curiously glancing at the things in front of me. I'd managed to keep Kayley under control, as she did not move from the floor, obediently staying in her place. I occasionally glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one came in the room, especially a teacher, but I'd probably just smack them anyway.

Kayley was panting hard, making me chuckle under my breath.

"Calm down now…" I whispered to my head, gritting my teeth. "Come on, shut up."

I heard Kayley slowly rising to her feet, making me dart my head towards her. When she saw my angry expression, she flinched her hands up in the air, gesturing me to calm myself. Like she could achieve that.

"Please, Shaylee, calm down," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm really sorry…"

"So you're admitting it?" I snapped.

"No, I mean…"

I started flicking the lighter, displaying the beautiful flame in my hand.

"You're saying it for attention, aren't you?" I hissed.

"Of course I'm not!" she cried.

"Liar," I said, hoarsely. The anger then started rising again. "Liar, liar, liar…._liar_!"

"Are you mad?!" Kayley shouted backing, away.

I glared at her, giving her the look of death. Still gripping my lighter, I walked over to her, before being right in her terrified face. I grabbed her shirt and pulled her closer to me.

Dad was starting to come through in me again.

"Look at me," I commanded, even though she was. "Am I mad?" I chuckled. "Do I look mad to you?" She remained silent. I then began to walk back to where I'd come from again, dragging her with me by her shirt as she struggled in my grip. "I'll prove to you I'm not mad. _I'm not mad_."

I lifted up my lighter to her face, flicking the light and keeping it lit in front of both our faces.

_Think of the beautiful fires you love, Shaylee._

I smirked at her, before finally letting her go and pushing her away, but this time she didn't fall.

That's when it happened. I let my mind take control. I drew my lighter closer to the plastic bags with the newspapers piled inside. The flame met the paper, and they immediately burst gorgeously into flames, burying the fires inside of them.

Kayley screamed, to which I responded by laughing and chucking her on the floor. I turned back and saw the flames grow larger, until the bag itself was covered in dancing fire.

I don't know what came over me, but I started laughing. I wasn't chuckling quietly, I was laughing hysterically, kicking the bag over until the burning papers were covering the floor.

My laughter was almost turning insane. I was turning into dad. Even though I was cackling, I wasn't sure if I was enjoying myself or not. Some parts of me felt terrified, even more so than Kayley, who was crying and shrieking, struggling on the floor.

I saw her run for the door, and I dashed after her.

"Where you going?" I asked, casually.

"Where am I _going_?!" she cried. "You just fucking set a class on fire! On purpose! You think I'm gonna…"

She screamed again, backing up on the door as the fire grew larger. I found it fascinating how this started from my little cigarette lighter. I couldn't help but grin widely, my brain still making shrill noises, making it almost impossible to hear Kayley.

"You're right," I laughed. "We better go before we're caught…." I nodded sarcastically.

"_We _get caught?!"

"Oh shut up." I glanced over to the desks and I gasped. "Oh shit, my bag!"

I ran over and quickly grabbed my bag, as Kayley ran out the door. I rose slowly to face the door's entrance into the corridor, with the fire still glowing wonderfully behind me. There were already kids crowded round Kayley, as she whimpered onto them.

I stormed out too, slamming the door behind me.

"What's happened?!" one boy asked, his tone dripping with worry.

"Oh my god, is that class _on fire_?" one older girl exclaimed.

"Yes! Shaylee Napier did it!" Kayley cried hysterically, pointing at me.

Everyone in the corridor stared at me. I couldn't take it. I turned away and placed my head on the wall, clutching onto it, scrunching my eyes and panting hard.

It didn't help that all the kids started stampeding around me, their shouting overlapping one another until it sounded thunderous. I even gripped my fading black dyed hair, trying to take breaths.

"Someone tell Mrs. Quaid!" someone yelled.

"I'll get Mr. Martin!" another said.

Then people were trying to talk to me, firing questions and insults at me. One boy in my grade started shouting in my face but I didn't want to look at him.

"What the _fuck _are you _doing_, you crazy bitch?!" he shouted, spit firing from his mouth. "Why did you _do that_?"

"Please," I retorted, trying to keep the anger locked inside. "Please, just stay away from me. Leave me alone, just _please_….Stay _away_."

"Why should I when you just set a fucking class on fire?! Did you want to keep Kayley in there?! She could have fucking died!"

"Don't be so stupid," I answered back, gripping my head tighter.

"Oh yeah, you're big enough to burn down a class room but not big enough to face people!"

"Just leave me alone…."

"No, fuck off!"

"Shut _up_."

"Think you're so big and badass when you're actually pathetic!"

"Shut…up!"

He then grabbed my shoulders, making me explode. The voices roared. The surge of anger made me punch him hard in the face. He collapsed onto the floor, grabbing everyone's attention, but that couldn't stop me. I groaned loudly as I kicked him in the stomach as he gasped for air on the floor.

I suddenly felt being grabbed by the arms and being held backwards. I screamed as I struggled to break free, tears streaming down my cheeks. It turned out to be Chelsea who was holding me back.

"_Get off me_!" I roared.

"Shaylee! Shaylee, calm down babe! Come on," Chelsea said, sharply.

"_No_!"

I burst into tears as I suddenly became weak. Chelsea came in front of me, rubbing my arms as I stood there, panting hard.

"Shaylee, calm yourself," she said, soothingly.

"How can I when _that little shit _thinks he can just speak to me like that!" I screamed, trying to storm past Chelsea again, but she held me firmly back. "Don't _anybody _give me a chance to calm the fuck down?!"

"_I_ am right now!" Chelsea said.

I inhaled heavily. I glanced back over at the door to the science lab, peering through the tiny window. I didn't notice much flames or smoke from inside.

Mrs. Quaid, the principal, all of sudden came rushing through everyone like a patrolling officer, followed by a group of kids who had informed her what had happened. Obviously my fire wasn't big enough yet as it hadn't set off the smoke alarms. Her face was red and she looked alarmed when she saw the boy I'd just attacked still lying on the floor. She, along with some kids, helped him struggle to his feet. Chelsea tried to keep me calm, and the voices did fade a little, but the commotion around me carried it on.

The chaotic atmosphere seemed almost like one of dad's situations. Oh how I wished I had a gun with me at that moment so I could shoot Kayley's attention seeking ass.

"Take him to my office," Mrs. Quaid told two boys, who nodded and carried the limping boy away down the corridor. I clung onto Chelsea as I knew what was about to happen. "Everyone, outside right now!" the principal instructed, and everyone immediately started filing out. I thought I could join them and get away with it, but no one can fool Mrs. Quaid's annoyingly watchful eye. "_Shaylee Napier_!" she yelled.

I stopped in my tracks and rolled my eyes at Chelsea, who managed to give me a sympathetic look.

I turned around to find her storming towards me. I folded my arms and gave the impression I couldn't care less, raising my eyebrows at her. I took a deep breath to calm myself, but it soon failed.

"You, young lady…" she began.

"To your office?" I interrupted. "Oh sure I'll go to your office. Nothing new, is it?"

"Don't you _dare _get cheeky with me, Miss Napier!" she barked. "To my office now, there you can explain yourself."

"Okay. Sure," I answered, sinisterly.

"And you, outside, Miss Archer," Mrs. Quaid said to Chelsea.

"I'm just going, I was trying to calm her down," Chelsea explained.

I managed to form a small smile at her. "Thanks, honey," I said.

"Miss Napier…"

"I'm _going_!" I yelled. "God's sake!"

I barged past her and started marching down the corridor, picking up my bag as I left, followed closely by Mrs. Quaid. The bell rang as soon as we arrived at the reception desk, where the boy I'd beaten up was sitting there, pathetically. I scowled at him as we walked past and through the door behind the reception desk to enter Mrs. Quaid's office.

She slammed the door behind her and sat at her desk. I just stood there with my arms folded, allowing the anger and voiced to slowly leave my mind. They were still swirling and overlapping each other, but they were fading away into the distance. I felt more relaxed now, like I was back in my tedious school environment, and not like I was in a scene of monstrosity.

"Sit down," Mrs. Quaid commanded.

I did so with a huge sigh, crossing my legs so they matched my arms. I gave her that uncomfortable stare, but just before she could interrogate me, the phone on her desk started ringing. She picked it up with an annoyed sigh.

"Mrs. Quaid speaking," she said into the phone. "Hello, Mr. Martin. Yes. Yes…it's completely clear? Oh thank goodness. Yes, I have her here now. Yes. Sorry? Yes, yes, I sent all the students outside. Oh that's good. That's a _relief _to hear. Okay, yes. I shall meet you then, yes. Okay. Okay, thank you. Bye, now. Bye."

She slammed the phone down as I stared at her curiously.

"What did he want?" I asked.

"That's none of your concern, Shaylee."

"Well, it is. If he was talking about the science lab…"

"They have managed to put the fire out." I just simply nodded. "Speaking of which, how _dare _you…how _dare _you do that in my school! That is absolutely disrespecting your school environment!"

"Well, to be honest, Mrs. Quaid…"

"Do _not _interrupt me!"

"Well, aren't I allowed to say what I think?"

"Once I inform you the seriousness of what you have done in my school!"

"How'd you even know it was _me_?"

"Because I was informed by two students from your grade, Miss Napier, that you had done this, and with Kayley Lyons with you in the classroom as you did it…"

"But…"

"Quiet! What have you _done_?! You have set one of my classes on fire and attacked _two _fellow students with no reason!" I burst into laughter. "Don't you dare laugh! What is so funny, exactly?!"

"I attacked them for _no reason_?" I laughed. "That's a load of crap, Mrs. Quaid! Why would I just do it for _no reason_?!"

"Then what is your reason, then, Shaylee?"

I was prepared to answer back, but I found myself being lost for words for a few moments. I could only think of one answer: "Because…they made me mad."

"How?"

"They…well…I hit that kid because he was yelling in my face and was talking to me like a piece of shit…."

"Mind your language."

"Sorry." I sighed impatiently. "As I was _saying_…yeah, he shouted in my face while I was trying to calm down and he wasn't exactly _helping_…and Kayley…wait, how do you even _know _I..." I quoted with my fingers, "…'attacked' her?"

"The two girls who informed me of what happened said they had been told by Miss Lyons that you threatened her before you set the classroom on fire! We also have evidence on the security cameras!"

"Actually, Mrs. Quaid…"

"Be quiet. I don't want to hear any excuses! Do you realise, Shaylee, that this could put the school in serious trouble? But you have also disobeyed the rules by attacking other students when you know _full well _that is _not _tolerated! Never in all my years at this school have I witness such disgusting behaviour!"

"You didn't witness it, actually."

She shook her head at me. "You have a serious attitude problem, young lady…"

"You _know_ I have a disorder, Mrs. Quaid! You got told by my Elementary School about my ADHD, it's something that can't be helped! You do realise I don't _want _to lash out at other kids but when I get angry, I…" My voice cracked. "I…I can't control myself. Plus, if they didn't _push _me to be angry then it would never have happened! Maybe you should talk to Kayley as well because she was the cause of what I did."

"Shaylee, you _must _know what you did is highly dangerous and intolerable."

"Well…yeah…maybe so, but…Kayley made me mad…"

"Shaylee…"

My voice started to go all wobbly. "_Please _just listen to me!"

She paused. I looked at her with pleading eyes as she sighed and shuffled in her chair.

"Okay, if you must," she finally said.

I took a deep breath. "I have this disorder…not ADHD, something else…" Mrs. Quaid's eyes widened. "She was going on about how she could hear her grandfather's voice inside her head because he's just passed away, right? It all looked fake to me. I got angry because, well…some people suffer from hearing voices and suffer badly…I _know_…I just got mad because she was lying about it when it's something you shouldn't make up just to make everyone feel all sorry for you. She was saying it for a reaction, I could tell by the way she was acting. Don't think I'm lying, Miss, because I _know_…"

"I understand completely why you got angry and I shall have a word with Kayley about this as I totally understand where you're coming from…"

"Thank you!" I looked down into my lap to hide my tears.

"But you must realise what you have done is a serious matter, something that will make me and the rest of the staff question your right to stay in this school."

I shot my head up at her. "What?"

"Miss Napier, I have never seen such shocking behaviour from a student before, especially of a 13-year-old. I have no choice whether to question your right in this school based on the seriousness of what you have done today. I know previously you have had fights with other students but nothing like what you have done this afternoon…"

"You can't suspend me for doing something I couldn't help!"

"You can't blame everything on your disorders, Shaylee…"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You just don't understand! There's more going on my head than you think!"

"In that case, I think you must seek help for this…"

"_You_ can't make me get help for anything!"

"Shaylee…"

"Do you know what's going on in my head or in my life? No, you _don't_."

"Listen to me." I folded my arms in frustration. "I shall be writing to your parents about the incident and I shall have a meeting with the other members of staff and possibly the school governors to decide upon the matter."

"This is ridiculous."

"You shall receive detention tonight."

"You know what? _Fuck _that. I don't really care if you suspend me for a week or not, I want to get away from this shit hole. No one _ever _even _tries _to understand, you all just judge me and try to keep me under control when it's _clear_…and I'm admitting this…that it's _impossible _to control my anger. No one in this place has bothered to help me. Let's face it. So, you know what? I don't care."

I stood up and grabbed my bag, beginning to storm towards the door. Mrs. Quaid dominantly stood in her chair.

"You sit back down, young lady!" she shouted.

I looked back at her in disgust. "Why do I need to? You've made it _very clear _what you're going to do. You're gonna write a letter to my…" I paused as a thought suddenly crossed my mind. "…to my dad…saying what's gonna happen. You're gonna talk to Kayley, I have detention and all that. That's it, right? The class is cleared now, there's no fire, so I'm gonna go."

She didn't manage to get another word in as I quickly made my escape, bursting through her office door, out into reception and through the main entrance. As soon as I was outside, I immediately lit myself a cigarette. I was lucky Mrs. Quaid didn't even confiscate it, I was even surprised it had managed to stay in pocket after all that havoc. I lit it up and put the box in my jacket pocket. The cigarette was trembling in my hand, but the inhales and exhales soon calmed my frustration.

I knew fully well I wasn't allowed to smoke at the front of the school and I was right now supposed to be in class, but right there and then I felt the most important thing was to calm myself down, I didn't care about the security cameras.

I dashed behind the wall so no teachers could spot me, and when I finished I buried it right into the grass, covering it in mud. I flipped out my hand mirror from my bag and gasped in horror when I saw the horrific state I was in. My eyeliner was stained on my cheeks from where I'd been crying, smudging my blusher and foundation. The black lipstick was barely noticeable now, so I quickly redid it. There was no use for that after I just wiped my whole face clean with a tissue, but that just made it worse.

I leaned down and sat against the wall, taking a few moments to compose myself. I couldn't believe what had just occurred. All the noises, the voices, the anger, the violence. I had taken all of it in now. The screaming monster inside of me was now beginning to get inside my soul. It felt very peculiar, feeling dominant but, I sort of liked it. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it.

I decided I'd had enough of school for one day, and to wipe all my makeup off successfully I would need the mirror at home.

Plus, I just wanted to see dad. I needed my father.

Chase and I had discovered the year before this secret way to escape from the school, going all the way around the back and through a narrow space in the gate, which led to a pathway that eventually brought you back into the streets of Gotham City. I sneaked my way to the space, ducking under windows like a detective searching for clues, always cautiously walking and checking to see if I wasn't spotted.

Taking another smoke as I walked down the secret pathway and out into the streets made me feel completely calmer, plus taking in all the commotion in the City made me feel so much better. I had a free mind now. I walked all the way to the bus station, the one further away from the school, so I wouldn't be spotted. The journey home would be no problem, as I always made sure I took spare money with me to school, in case of emergencies. As I was strolling to the station, I took pleasure in watching the busyness and the pushing and shoving. Dad told me to always look out for interesting things happening in the City, as it could be entertaining to watch the people of Gotham get into a fight or trying to take on the police, or even just witnessing two people having a conversation about the fuss in Gotham.

On my journey home, I stared out of the window, thinking about everything. I tried not to think about Kayley and our little disagreement, but more about what Mrs. Quaid had said. I definitely knew they were going to suspend me for a long time, but I didn't care. In fact that's what I wanted, time away so I could carry on with my art projects in peace. I even thought about the possibility I would get expelled. Maybe I would, but then what would I do? Move to Little Hill Middle School in the town? I don't think so. They couldn't do that, could they? Expel a girl with a behavioural disorder because she went a bit mad at two kids? Plus, expel her in final year before she moved onto higher education in Gotham High the next year? Just _no_, they couldn't. Yeah, I set a class on fire, but, I didn't _want_ to. It just sort of happened. I know it sounds ridiculous but that's the truth.

I arrived back in the town and ran almost all the way back to out flat, which was only five or so minutes away. I had a beam on my face the whole way there, just with the thought of seeing dad when I got home. I stopped in my tracks when I came onto my shabby, grey street of flats. I was home early, so dad may not be home yet. In fact, I _knew _he wouldn't be home. He came home rather late now, even later than he did when I was younger.

I had a stroke of luck that day.

The door was unlocked, and I came in, slowly. As I shut the door behind me, I could hear water battering in the bathroom and dad humming, loudly.

"Dad?" I called, putting my bag to the side. I carefully walked over to the bathroom door. "Dad?" I called, louder.

"Shaylee?" he answered.

"Dad are you…are you in the _shower_?!" I asked, shocked.

Dad always took a bath, he barely touched the shower that I mainly used.

"Yeah," he said. "What are you doing home so early, Shay? What's happened?"

I gulped. "Uhh…it's a long story. What are you _doing _in there?"

"Trying to get this damn dye out of my hair."

I giggled. "Dad, just washing the hair normally won't get it out, you know. You have to do it certain way."

"I know that, and I've tried it. I'm rinsing it off, but I don't think I've done it right. Nothing's coming out. I'll be out in a minute, honey…"

"Okay!"

"…to hear this 'long story'."

I made my way into the sitting room where mom's old dressing table was waiting. I used a ton of baby wipes to try and get rid of my smudging makeup, which took so long that during the process, dad already come out of the bathroom and strolled in wearing his dressing down. His green hair with his natural brown growing at the roots was soaking, dripping in front of his face. I'd managed to sort myself out by the time he'd sat on the sofa, holding a mug of coffee in his hand. I took out my ponytail and let my black hair hang loose, as I rubbed my naked face to feel the coolness of not wearing makeup.

I flung onto the sofa with dad, who looked at me, questionably.

"What?" I asked.

Dad could instantly read my mind. "What's happened, Shaylee?" he questioned. I sighed, staring ahead at the blank wall. "Hey, look at me," Dad ordered, which I responded to, nervously. "Come on. I _know _something's up."

"I had to get out of there, dad."

"Why?"

I sighed. "I had a…I had…something _happened_."

"Oh God, what? Have you been fighting again?"

"Well…not exactly. More like I kicked their asses but they didn't respond."

Dad laughed, putting his mug down by his feet. "What did they do _this time_, sweetie?"

"This guy was yelling in my face while I was trying to calm myself down. The idiot couldn't work it out that I was trying to calm myself so I punched him right in the face and kicked him on the floor. His nose was bleeding."

"Oooh…"

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Why were you trying to calm down, Shaylee? Get angry with another teacher, hmm?"

"No, dad, this…this was _lunchtime_."

"Ahh, so you _did _get into a fight?"

"It was Kayley."

Dad sighed. "Not _her _again. I thought she doesn't bother you anymore."

"She doesn't. I bother _her_ mostly now."

I told dad everything that happened, going into all the gory details. I tried to tell him like he tells his stories, making gestures and using my face. I explained how the voices were telling me to do it, it didn't feel like _I _was doing it. It got to point where I was explaining in so much detail, that I felt my voice trembling. Dad immediately put his arm around me and lifted my chin up.

"Shhh-hh-hh-hh….come on now," he said, softly. "_Calm down_."

"But _dad_," I whimpered. "They just _don't _understand, they don't know…it's _so _unfair…"

"I know, I know…" Dad whispered. "Don't get yourself all worried. You had every reason to get mad at the bitch. Who the hell does she think she is?"

"But dad…I didn't _mean _to…you know…"

"Shaylee, I know that, but…" He paused, looking upwards slightly before turning back to me. "How did you feel when it did happened? You know, when the fire was lit beautifully and it was starting to burn down the class?"

I sniffled and went into deep thought. I looked up at no one in particular, trying to get myself back into the moment of when it did happen.

"It felt…it felt kinda neat…in a way…" I said.

"A sense of accomplishment?" Dad asked, a smile now beginning to form.

"Sort of…yeah. I don't know. I _shouldn't _have felt, you know…_good_ about it."

"You were showing her what can happen if she makes you _angry_. Showing her what happens when you go mad. Shh. Listen to me. Something similar happened when I was in school, y'know. One day, some kid makes me mad because he was making fun of the fact I had a crush on Harleen. I was around fifteen at the time. He was in my face, and tells me…that I'm a fool, that I'm a fucking freak. Of course at the time I was _just_…becoming a _little bit_ of an unpredictable schizoid, so…I lashed out at him, beating him on the ground, a bit like you did, and Larry came to my aid. The kid fought back, but he couldn't take me and Larry _on_…the little idiot was nothing more than a _coward_. How many bullies do you know turn out be geniuses? None. They all turn out to be the most pathetic people _around_. I'd stolen my father's knife at the time…because I wanted to defend myself…and I put it up to him, while he was against the wall, saying…'If you _ever _come near me again then I'll slice you up and carve you a _new one_.' And you know…he never bothered me again after that. If he _tried to_…Larry would beat the silly dunce. Still, it wasn't enough to impress Harleen, though now I think she'd drool over the whole thing. Luckily, no one _ever _found out because Larry threatened to beat the shit out of that guy after school if he told anyone. Do you understand the point of this, sweetheart?"

"Uhh…" I stuttered.

"I _mean_…it was the first time, I felt a sense of achievement in school by doing something…"

"Dangerous?" I said.

"Precisely."

"I thought you'd be mad at me for setting a class on fire, dad."

Dad chuckled. "Could I _ever _hold a grudge with you, Shay? You can't help it. I _told_ you, if you ever hear voices and it makes you do something crazy, tell me. And you have. That's all that bothers me, is that you _tell _me. I can't do anything to help your unfortunate problems, can I? No one can. But I'd rather you tell me about it. So don't you worry, baby. The teachers at that school are useless. You're right, they don't understand. They don't even _try _to."

"I don't care if they suspend me. I want to be away from there."

"Tell you what then. Give tomorrow a miss, and then next week don't go in at all. You can spend time with me if you want."

I smiled gratefully at him. "Really?"

"Shaylee, I know you. You don't want to go back and people be constantly talking about it for another week, do you? Give them a week to get over it."

I squeezed him tightly, and he hugged me back.

"They'll suspend me, anyway, dad," I said, still nuzzling against him. "It'll be a miracle if they let me off. They said they'll send a letter to you saying what's going to happen to me."

"Oh like I'll pay attention to _that_."

We shared a laugh as I stayed laying on my father for a while. He looked down at me, giving me a sympathetic smile and affectionate rub on my arm.

"So what have you been doing today, dad?" I asked, after a while.

"Ahh, just the usual. Went and got some money." He winked at me, making me giggle. "Paid a visit to the little clothes shop down the road, too. Got some new ties, other ones are getting a bit old now."

"Did you take my cards with you?" I asked, beaming.

"Oh yes, I never leave without 'em. They're very important."

"Why dad? What do you _use _them for, anyway?"

"All in good time."

"_Please _tell me…"

"No, no, Shay, you have to be _me_ to understand. If I tell you, I, uh…you wouldn't believe me."

"Why…"

"Ah, ah, ah…it's something…" He sighed before closing his eyes and grinning widely. "It's something that only _I_ can understand. Like I've told you before, there's something changing, darlin', and it's…it's strange, but…I'm not crazy."

"I know you're not. And if you go mad, you can't help it, it's the…"

"Yes, yes, alright, don't talk about it." There was a few moments of awkward silence, but I remained nestled of to his side and luckily he didn't get angry. He kept his arm around my shoulders. Then he suddenly spoke up. "Right," he said to me. "You hungry, Shay? I presume you haven't ate because of that little incident that was _kind of _a distraction."

"No, I haven't."

Dad stood up, clicking his neck and stretching. "Well, then, best get you something."

"Aw, yes please, that's be amazing."

"I'll get something while you be a good girl and go and calm down in your room."

I stood up, laughing. "Dad, I'm calm now, you know. Still feel a little funny though."

"Aww," Dad said. "Not feeling too well?"

"I'm fine, just a bit…strange."

"I wonder why." He winked at me, as we both giggled. "Go on then, sweetheart, I'll call ya. Then I'll go out for a bit, got a date at the bank."

"Okay," I chuckled.

I slowly gave him a hug, but he complied and even gave me a kiss on the forehead.

"Don't worry about it, honey, okay?" he said. "Just forget about it. Nothing's damaged badly in the classroom, is it? It's not like the whole school went up in flames."

"Kinda wish it did though."

Dad spluttered into laughter. "Oh, Shaylee, you are funny, aren't ya? Go on, ya cheeky monkey."

The night continued just as dad had said. We had lunch, dad making me a sandwich and some salad, and immediately went out, but locking me in. I did my usual art work while he was out, but using the sitting room in front of the television while I had the room to myself. I drew bats and skull patterns all over two blank sheets of paper and writing my name in fancy writing. I'd been learning how to draw anagrams in school, and because techniques in art lessons were the only things I took on board, I decided to practice.

Nothing interesting came on the television. I prayed that nothing about me nearly burning down a classroom came up on the news, but, thankfully, it didn't. I knew that surely it would appear at some point, though, but I didn't really care. People could think everything they wanted about me. I knew the truth. Dad knew the truth. No one could understand what's it was like to be thirteen years old and having schizophrenia that seemed to be worsening. I hated it so much. I _still_ despise it with a passion, but unfortunately, something like that can never be cured.

Dad returned home at around 9:30pm, and I had gotten myself ready for bed by then. I was in the kitchen, tidying up when he came in.

"I'm back, my love," he called as he walked into his bedroom.

"Hi, dad," I greeted, cheerfully. "Is everything okay?"

I heard his draw slam followed by cluttering. "Yeah." Dad cleared his throat. "Got work done, got some, ah…_money_ for us to spend on food this week, Shay, from the _bank_. Got help from my friend Rob, he was let out of prison last week, little shit didn't learn his lesson, did he, baby?!" We both laughed. Dad then came in, looking exhausted and his eyes appearing to be bloodshot. "What you been up to, Shay?"

"Just been drawing, watching TV," I replied. "Been tidying the kitchen."

"Stayed away from lighters, hmm?" Dad chuckled.

"Obviously not, I went for a smoke before."

I'd finally let dad know I'd started smoking. I'd told him about a month before then. Well, I didn't tell him, he _caught_ me one day having one in the garden, when I thought he'd gone in the bath. I was so relieved when he didn't seem to care that much. I thought he'd be a little concerned about it, but he didn't seem to mind at all. He forbid me from smoking in the house, though.

"But that's it, right?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, I promise."

"Ahh, you _are_ a good girl."

Dad slumped down on the chair, his hair flopping in front of his face as he stared down at his lap.

"You okay, dad? You tired?" I asked, closing the cutlery draw.

"Yeah…yeah…I'll…I'll go bed in a minute."

"I'm going to go too, I'm exhausted."

"_You're _exhausted? You weren't just running around like a madman escaping from a bank with a pile of money, were ya?"

"I suppose not," I laughed.

I went to walk out the door to my bedroom, but dad stopped me with a cough.

"Shaylee," he said. I turned around and smiled at him. "You still up for us going out?"

"Tomorrow?"

"What about this weekend? I'll give you a lazy day tomorrow, you _need _one after all that's happened today. Ah, Saturday we'll go for a little trip into town, huh? How's that sound?"

"Yeah, yeah okay, I'm up for it."

"Okay then, pumpkin. You off to bed?" I nodded my head, rubbing my eyes. "Come 'ere then." Dad outstretched his arms, I walked tiredly into a hug and he held me close. "Ahh, been a bit of a shitty day for ya, huh?"

"It's been horrible," I whispered, sadly.

"That's why I'm not letting you go back tomorrow. You don't wanna face those idiots again, do ya? Especially that Kayley, who I will happily track down for you."

"No!" I cried, coming out of the hug.

"Shaylee, I'm joking, relax," Dad laughed. "I'm always joking around, aren't I?"

"Yeah," I giggled.

"Alright, goodnight, beautiful," Dad said, nudging my cheek before standing up.

"Night, dad."

Dad kept his promise and left me be the next day. I woke up late in the morning and I knew dad had already left the house because I didn't hear a sound when I awoke. I didn't budge from my bed for ages, I stirred a little but I just stared at the ceiling. The memories from the day before came rampaging back into my head. This time, I didn't start crying. I didn't feel any sort of emotion at all. I just thought about it. I don't know what details I recalled, but I just kept replaying the scene in my mind. Even though I'd felt like I could almost kill someone that day before, weirdly, I didn't feel that way when I remembered it.

I did eventually shift myself out of bed and headed into the bathroom for a shower. As I locked the door behind me and started to get undressed, I noticed that dad had carelessly left the flannel dripping wet on the floor, making it slippery. I carefully picked it up, rinsed it and put it into the sink before cautiously stepping into the shower, but before I could do anything more, I noticed that there was thick white paint smeared onto my palms. I was startled by it, quickly darting my head back towards the flannel I'd put in the sink. I reached over and held it loosely in my fingers, and that's when I realised it was covered in white face paint. I curiously looked around me, until I noticed an open pot of it had been left out in the shower next to me. I exchanged looks between them. Although I was highly curious, I decided to leave it, placing the flannel at the side.

I enjoyed my shower as many thoughts spun around in my head about what I'd just found. I knew dad had used them, mostly likely that morning. I couldn't work it out. I couldn't make any connections. It was all very odd.

Even though I loved my dad more than anything, I felt a little frightened inside. The fact he was coming home later, that there were knives just laying around in the flat everywhere, and that all of these mysterious things were appearing.

Once I'd finished and went through the ordinary process of getting changed, blow-drying my hair and putting on some light makeup, I sat and watched one of dad's action movies for the early afternoon. It was nice to have a bit of time to myself for a change and not going through the process of going to school that Friday.

Both GMS and Gotham High finished at 3:30 so I decided at around 4 o'clock I'd go round to Chase's house, just for a little catch up, as I hadn't seen him in a while. I left at 4 o'clock, leaving a note for dad on the kitchen table in case he came back. I preened myself up to visit Chase, adding more makeup and wearing a black denim skirt with my purple bat t-shirt and of course not forgetting my favourite purple jacket. I straightened my hair in the mirror before leaving and locking the flat. I managed to walk there in ten minutes flat, making myself look decent before knocking on the door.

Chase lived in a far grander place than I did. He lived in a three-bedroom house with a huge kitchen and his own den area as well as his bedroom, which was covered from top to bottom with posters of rock bands and other stuff that boys were into. It was probably one of the nicest houses you could get in Gotham Town. I lived on the crummy side, in the streets lined with cramped flats where the unemployed lived.

Mrs. Delancey, now known to me as just simply Julia, answered the door and smiled at me, pleasantly. I put my hair behind my hair and smiled back. She was very beautiful, a perfectly-built woman with black hair and green eyes just like Chase. Chase looked a lot like her, and she was so cheerful and friendly. You would never have guessed in your life she'd had a rough time going through a traumatic marriage to Chase's father. I _so _wished she was my mother.

"Hiya, Shaylee," she greeted.

"Hi, Julia," I said.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine, uh…is Chase home?"

"Oh, sweetie, I'm afraid not. He's gone round to Alex's house in the City with the boys. Didn't he tell you?"

"No."

"Oh…oh I'm sorry, Shaylee."

"No, no, it's okay. I'll just see him again soon I guess."

"I can't believe he didn't invite you."

"When did they plan this, do you know?"

"He only told me when he got in about half an hour ago. He just told me he was going out. Can't stop young boys hanging out these days, can you? You can still come in if you want to, Shaylee."

"No, no…it's okay. I don't want to disturb you or anything."

"Oh you're not, it's just me here. Really, it's okay."

"No, Julia, really, I…I better get back for when my dad comes home, I don't want him to worry, you know."

"Okay then, Shaylee."

"Thank you anyway, Julia."

"No problem, honey, see you soon."

"See you soon. Bye."

She waved before she closed the door behind her. I walked away, feeling so disappointed. My heart did feel heavy, but I didn't blame Chase for wanting to hang out with the boys instead of being stuck at home with his mom. He was doing it a lot, going out drinking with them all the time. When we all hung around together (mostly on weekends), we met up in the City and hung around the stores, and most of them drunk alcohol even then. I spent more time with Chase more than any of the others, and I knew some of them were pissed off about it, particularly Alex, because he considered himself to be Chase's best friend, even though he knew full well _I _was Chase's best friend. If I had a phone, I would have rang Chase right then to ask if I could join them, but dad still wouldn't let me have one, he said I'd have to wait until my next birthday, which was only a month away at the time.

I returned to an empty flat and decided to once again start drawing. I soon got bored with it, though, as I couldn't think of anything new. I lay in bed until I eventually fell asleep. I awoke later and dad still wasn't home, the time was 6:35pm. I ordered myself a pizza as I was too lazy to make myself some dinner. I had my pyjamas on by seven.

While I munched on my pepperoni pizza in front of the television, I heard a clatter come through the letterbox. With an annoyed sigh, I went to the door to see what could possibly have arrived in the flat, as we hardly ever got mail. A letter in a brown envelope was lying on the floor, staring up at me like it was important. Wiping my greasy hands on my jeans, I picked it up and looked at it curiously. I glanced at the corner where the Gotham Middle School logo was printed. Even though no one was around, I looked around the room, thinking about what I should do. It was addressed to dad and not me, but I was so eager to read it. I knew it would be my suspension letter. I decided in the end to leave it in the kitchen for dad to read later. I felt so stupid for not having the courage to open it, but I thought I'd show I didn't care more by not finding out my fate.

I was in bed designing another Joker card when dad finally came home about an hour and a half later. He slammed the door behind him and I heard him grumbling as he marched into his room. I heard him banging his wardrobe doors and loud clattering. I knew he was in a rotten mood, so I dashed into his room, panicking.

"Dad?!" I called, as I ran into his room. I froze when I found him getting changed into his pyjamas. "Oh…damn it. Sorry." I went to walk out again.

"No, no, Shaylee…it's alright, come in." Dad sounded very calm considering he'd just been parading around the house.

I anxiously walked in, shutting the door and leaning on it. He put on his night clothes and flopped onto his bed, grabbing his hands underneath the pillow and staring up at the ceiling. He was taking deep breaths. I glanced over at his side desk to notice two knives were lying there, one of them clean and shiny, the other one was covered in crimson stains. I started to feel my heart beating fast.

"Dad?" I said, quietly.

"What?"

"Is everything okay?" Dad didn't answer, he continued to stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. I went and carefully sat on the end of the bed, crossing my legs and tugging on his pyjama bottoms. "Daddy, please answer me."

"I'm fine."

"No. No you're not."

"How would you know?"

"You don't seem to be in a good mood."

Dad sighed heavily, and finally sat up, crossed-legged, facing me. He looked me right in the eyes, as did I.

"I…I'm okay, Shaylee, I swear."

"What's with the…" I pointed towards the knives on the desk. "What's with those?"

"I always carry those round, you should know that."

"Isn't…isn't one of those covered in…blood?"

Dad raised his eyebrows at me. "So you _did_ notice, huh?"

"Of course I did, it's hardly unnoticeable."

"Alright, alright…I got into a fight."

I gasped in horror, leaning in closer to him.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!" I cried.

"I'm fine. I completely uninjured, aren't I?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"One of the guys didn't wanna listen to me tonight, so I…"

"Dad, you didn't…"

"What?"

"You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Oh no, no, no, no…never _killed _him. I just…"

"What?!"

"I just…I just gave him a piece of my mind with the knife, baby." A creepy smirk formed on his lips.

"What do you mean, did you…?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you...uh..."

"Just say it. I know what you want to say."

I lowered my voice for no particular reason. "Did you…did you stab him?"

"_There we go_. Got there, eventually, didn't we?"

"Dad, why would you _stab_ your friend?"

Dad chuckled. "Shaylee, darling, come 'ere." I sat closer to him and he took both of my hands, still grinning. He said every word crisp and clear, not taking his eyes away from my worried facial expression. I didn't dare look away from him. "You _know _we both get angry because of the…you know…they make us _do things_. You and I both know it's getting worse, right? I'm a 36-year-old man and it's _still _getting worse for me. I just went crazy. I don't know _what _came over me, I couldn't...control myself. I didn't _kill_ him…he's alright, but he may not live to see tomorrow. I don't care. He disobeyed me. Oh, he'll regret that now. You can't rely on anyone these days, can you? You've seen me angry, haven't you, Shay? What you've seen of me was _nothing_ compared to what happened just now. I'm _so _glad you didn't see it. My head…my head is…"

All of a sudden he sighed and leaned his head against mine, looking almost weak and helpless. It was almost like he collapsed onto me. I put my arms around his neck and held him like a small child.

"Dad, calm down…it's okay…" I whispered.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm _okay_…" he mumbled. "It's just my head, my stupid fucking _head_."

"It's not real, dad."

"I know, I know…"

"Come on, you're okay. It's all over now. You can get through this."

He lifted his head up and managed to smile at me.

"I'm sorry you've had to see me like this, baby."

"Don't be silly, you've had to see _me_ like this _so many times_."

"But you're a young girl…I'm a grown man. That's different, you _need _all the comfort. I shouldn't be breaking down like this, especially in front of you, but…"

"They made you angry. They should know better."

"Too right, too right."

"You didn't get seen stabbing him, right?"

"No. It was in his house. The only person who saw was my other friend, Ken, but he sure as hell won't tell anyone, because I threatened to kill him if he did." Dad suddenly smirked at me. "I _laughed_ while I did it, too. His face was just _so_ priceless."

I was there for five minutes, calming him by doing all the things he did to me when I had just had a little breakdown. He said he had to go out for a cigarette to calm down, and so I joined him in the garden for one.

"Feel better now, dad?" I asked him, as I watched him exhale the smoke.

"Yeah, yeah, much better now," he replied. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"What you been up to?"

"Drawing, watching TV, I ordered a pizza for dinner."

"Ahh, good girl."

"Went round to see if I could see Chase before, but he wasn't in. Gonna try and catch up with him and the guys next weekend."

"Oh, that's good. So nice you have those guys you can talk to."

"Yeah." I exhaled another lot of smoke. "They're probably going to drink, though, but I won't touch the stuff. Not after what happened to mom."

"You're a smart girl, honey."

"Thanks, daddy. Oh by the way, there's a letter for you in the kitchen, if you didn't notice."

"A _letter_? For me?" Dad flicked his cigarette away.

"Yeah, really. It's from the school."

"Oh, fucking hell."

"Dad, I want you to read it."

"Ah, alright. I'll have a look while you finish, then."

Dad stepped on his cigarette and went back into the flat while I finished my cigarette. Once I'd finished, I went back in to find dad sitting down, reading the letter very carefully. He didn't look at me, he was taking his time with it. He finally put it down on the table and started shaking his head.

"Dad, what is it? What does it say?" I asked.

"I think you should look for yourself," Dad answered, giving me the letter.

I took it nervously and started reading it. It was all going fine until I read the following:

_The School Governors and I have come to the overall conclusion that your daughter, Shaylee, no longer has a right to continue her education Gotham Middle School based on the serious damage she has caused to school property and her unacceptable behaviour towards other students. This decision has been made final and she will no longer be permitted back into Gotham Middle School. If you have any concerns please do not hesitate to call the number below and I shall be expecting Shaylee and yourself to attend the above meeting regarding her future plans. Yours sincerely, Mrs. H. Quaid (Principal)._

I looked at dad with pure disbelief, open-mouthed at what I had just read. He was shaking his head in disgust. I felt the anger starting to rage inside of him, as he instantly stood up, knocking over his chair and taking the letter off me. I stood back.

"For starters, Shaylee, they've sent this a bit _late_, haven't they?" he said, hoarsely. "This...this is a load of _shit_. I know it's hard not to get angry at about it, but…fucking _hell_…are they expelling you?"

"Yes…yes they are."

"That is the most ridiculous…" Dad let out a yell, making me jump. "It wasn't you _fault_! They haven't taken into account your disorders _at all_! Okay, they may not know about the schizophrenia, but, _still_, they haven't even noticed you clearly have some of the symptoms?! What a load of bullshit! They don't bother to help! Ahhh, it's like dealing with your mother all over again!"

"Dad, don't _say _that!"

"You know what? I'm ringing 'em! I'm not having this!"

I saw him starting to rip up the paper in his hands into shreds, making me snatch it off him.

"_No_!" I yelled.

"What?"

"I mean…don't rip it up."

"Shaylee, I'm going slightly crazy here!"

"I know, but…don't…look, dad, don't bother ringing them up…it won't even be open…"

"Shaylee, you don't deserve this! Not at all!"

"I know I don't but they're not worth it!" Dad sighed as he leaned his head against the wall, trying to calm himself down. I desperately tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, dad?"

"What?"

"Instead of ripping it, why don't we just burn it? Apparently I'm good at that sort of thing!"

Dad wheeled around and smirked at me, slowly. He then took the letter off me and began to start sniggering.

"You know…you're right. Tomorrow, we'll put it on the campfire. Do you fancy that, my darling?"

"Yeah!"

"Then we can just get rid of this crap!"

"You know what, dad?"

"What?"

"I don't really give a fuck if they've expelled me or not. I hate it with a _passion_ and I hate all of the kids apart from a few. I don't even _want _to go to school anymore!"

"I don't blame you."

"I could be doing better things in the big City than wasting my time with that! I could be providing for us two instead of you just doing it all the time! Showing that City that it's got nothing but a shitty police system and inhabitants that are a load of judgemental, selfish, cowardly idiots!"

Dad raised his eyebrows at me, looking quite bewildered. He slowly put the letter down and then walked up to me until I was looking right up at him. I didn't know what to expect, but I certainly didn't think he'd lift me off my feet, laughing loudly and spin me around in the air. That's exactly what he did. I started laughing and screaming with him, kicking my legs around in the air. He put me down with a load groan.

"God, you're getting heavy," he laughed.

"Dad!" I punched him on his arm.

"Well, you are growing up. You _are _fourteen next month, aren't you? And you know what I've noticed? You're growing up _too _quickly, and that is not a bad thing, honey. You're a thirteen year old girl, yet you have the mind of middle-aged male criminal." He smirked at me as he kneeled down. "You've been expelled, shows you don't care about education because you want to move on from that already. You're right, they're not worth it. Let's not bother with _that _anymore."

"Dad, starting from tomorrow, I can live a free life. I know that sounds silly and over-the-top, but…"

"Oh but it's not." He chuckled. "Tomorrow, we'll go on a little adventure, okay?"

"Totally. I want to help you."

"Oh no, no, no…you're not going to _help _me."

"What? Dad, why not?"

"I'm not stupid, you know, Shaylee. I don't want anyone catching you stealing stuff and I don't want you taken away. The second you're taken away from me, all _hell_ will be let loose, and I mean that. That'll fuck with my head more than anything."

"Are you paranoid constantly that's what going to happen?"

"Every day, Shaylee. Every day I think you're going to be taken away since that night your mom died. That's why I have to be more sneaky and careful now. That's why I'm wearing all these _crazy _clothes, so the police don't recognise me."

"You're so smart, daddy."

"Why thank you, my darling. Now. It's late. I'm sorry about what I've been like tonight…"

"Don't be sorry!"

"But I am. Anyway, let's forget about _everything_ that's happened these past few days. Let's start over. Starting from tomorrow, okay? You best get to bed because I don't start my work late. I get up extra early."

"Okay."

Dad sighed as he stroked my cheek. "Are you scared?"

"About what?"

"About tomorrow."

"Of course I'm not. I'm so excited."

"Good girl!"

I laughed as dad suddenly lifted me up and flung me over his shoulder, holding my legs as I punched his back, squealing.

"Dad put me down!"

Dad carried me into my bedroom and dropped me onto my bed, where I was doubling up with laughter, making dad do just the same. He tickled my belly like I was a little kid again, until eventually stopping and pulling me into a hug.

"Calm yourself, sweetie," Dad said as he hugged me. I took a deep breath as I got myself into bed. Dad pulled the covers over me and kneeled down next to the bed. "Get some sleep," he said. "You're gonna need it."

"So are you gonna like…_train _me tomorrow?" I asked.

"Kinda," Dad replied. "Although I'm guessing I won't need to teach you much. I know how tough you are anyway. You're just like me."

"I'm so glad I am and I'm not feeble like mom was."

"Hey, when I first met her, she wasn't, you know."

"Really?"

"Nah, she was really tough, she took no shit from anyone, including me. You're kinda like both of us."

"More like you, though."

Dad giggled. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, night, night."

"Goodnight, daddy."

"Hope you don't have nightmares!"

"Hope you have hundreds!"

Dad switched off my light and shut my door, quietly, laughing to himself. I nestled down into bed feeling so relaxed.

I felt free, like I had no responsibilities anymore. I knew dad would totally forget about school from now on, and he most definitely wouldn't phone them or go to that meeting Mrs. Quaid talked about in the letter.

It crossed my mind how I'd stay in contact with my friends. I'd managed to so far, but when I had a phone it'd be so much easier. Then I could talk to Chase whenever I wanted.

I was startled when dad woke me up at 8:30am.

"_Shaylee_!" he called, knocking loudly on my bedroom door. "Come on, baby! Get up!"

"Aw, dad, really?" I replied, my voice cracking.

"Yeah, come on! I told you, we have to get up early if we want to get some work done!"

I arose from my bed and it took my ten minutes to try eventually get myself out of bed. I walked into the kitchen to grab some cereal, but I was shocked to find dad already up and dressed, munching on an apple. He was wearing his pocket-infested purple coat again, with a green shirt. Despite the fact he'd bought new ties the day before, he wasn't wearing one.

He turned around and started laughing at me.

"What's funny?" I asked.

"Why you still in your _pyjamas_? Come _on_, we need to get going, baby! I'm all ready to go!"

"No one can get ready _that _quickly. Besides, you haven't packed all your weaponry and stuff."

"I was _just _getting to that, you cheeky monkey! And it takes women longer to get ready in the morning than men, everyone knows that, especially if you're a _young_ girl."

"Hey!"

"Get ready before I go without ya!"

We both laughed as I dashed to my room and quickly got myself changed. I wore something comfortable with my purple jacket (which still unbelievably fit me because puberty hadn't hit me hard enough and I was still about the same size as a ten-year-old, although I was a little taller and I've obviously grown myself a pair of breasts which I tended to find so irritating, especially when Alex talked about them all the time to the other guys). I put on some quick makeup and dad joined me in the sitting room, just as I was about to tie my hair. He was carefully putting a gun in his jean pocket that was easily covered by his coat.

"How you doing your hair, honey?" he asked, walking up next to me.

"I'm doing a ponytail, like I always do," I answered.

"No, no, no…let's do something different today, Shaylee."

"What? Why?"

"You don't want people to take one look at you and think you're just normal, do you? You want people to think, 'oh, just look how sweet and innocent she is.' It's something Harleen did all the time. She put her hair in pigtails."

"Pigtails?"

"Yes. Can you do that, Shay?"

"Well, yeah, but they don't suit me."

"Don't be silly, you look like a cutie whatever your hair's like. Trust me on this one, okay?"

"Okay then."

I didn't want to argue with him so I did exactly as he said and put my hair into pigtails. Chelsea had taught me how to do it, as when we first started middle school she used to wear her hair like that, but I never touched it. It made me look so silly. But I guess if dad can dye his hair green (which was now fading slightly) and wear huge purple coats, then I could war pigtails and look like a slutty school girl.

Once we'd all finished, dad turned all the lights off and closed every door. Before we left, he pulled me to one side inn the hallway.

"Now, I want you take something," he said, grinning.

"What, dad?"

He pulled out a handgun from his side pocket and I stared at him, my eyes gleaming with worry.

"Hey, hey, hey…don't look so worried. You don't _have _to use it, but…just take it. If you wanna defend yourself, you might as well go all out, but…like I've said before, only use when necessary, and by that I mean…firing it. You can use it to back people off by all means, but don't fire it unless you _really need to_. You understand, sweetheart?"

"Of course," I said, taking the gun and placing it inside my own.

"Wonderful," Dad grinned. "Make sure no one can see that. You'll have to wear another jacket so it covers it. One that's longer…"

"Aw, man…"

"Come on now, honey, do as I say."

"Okay," I sighed. I went into my room and swapped my purple jacket with my grey coat, which was long enough to cover the gun, sticking out of my pocket. I came back to dad, closing my door behind me, my pigtails swinging crazily as I walked. "Is that better?" I asked.

"Much better. Now let's go."

We headed out the door, which dad locked behind him and placed his key safely inside his coat. He took my hand and walked me steadily down the street, observing the street around, glancing around like prey searching out for its killer.

"Where we gonna go, dad?" I asked.

"We'll go the bank first. I'll go in and get some money…well, _steal _some money, and you stay outside, on your toes searching for trouble. When I meet you, we get away with the money before I'm caught. Then we'll go shopping, because you girls like that, right? We'll go to the little clothes store next to the grocers. You can get something while I, uh, _talk _to the store owner."

"Sounds awesome."

"Oh and baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Seems like you forgot your money." He tutted, sarcastically. "Might just have to take it without paying instead. Besides, you need new comfy clothes as you won't need to look smart for school anymore, will you?"

I giggled as dad continued to guide me down the street. We eventually headed into an alleyway, where a random car was carelessly parked, even though it said 'No Parking.'

"Ahh, how convenient," Dad said, pointing at the car as we approached it. "That fool who left that there's gonna regret it now, huh?"

Dad revealed that golden key he'd had three years ago when we escaped on summer vacation and magically unlocked the car with one sharp turn.

"Dad, where did you _get _that key from?" I asked, as he swung open the door. "A key that just opens any car in the world?"

"For me to know and you be fascinated with, honey," Dad chuckled. "Go on, get in the other side. We got a bank to visit."

I did as I was told and strapped myself in. Dad revved up the car and speedily reversed, making me squeal. He laughed as he turned the car around and soon we were on the roads of Gotham Town, heading into the front of the town centre, where the bank was in the middle of nowhere. Bit of a foolish place to have bank.

He parked outside and when the car stopped, I started to get out, but dad stopped me by waggling his finger at me.

"Ah-da-da-da, wait a second, not so fast, Shaylee," Dad said.

"What's wrong?"

"Shush, shush…you _always _have to _look_ before you make the next move, Shay, that's _very _important."

"Oh right."

"Do you see any funny business out your window? Like any cops or somebody important like that?"

I quickly look out of my window, examining closely. The street was almost empty apart from a few people standing around.

"Nope. I don't see anything like that," I said.

"Marvellous. _Now _we can go."

We both headed out the car and dad locked it behind him. I ran over to him and he gestured me to follow him. We walked up to the bank's entrance, where he stopped me in my tracks and turned to face me. I looked up at him, beaming, knowing there was going to be action ahead. Dad lowered his voice and talked in an almost excited tone.

"Now, Shaylee, you stay here for me. I'll just go in, get us some uh, _dinner money_." I snickered and put my hand over my mouth to stop the giggles and dad couldn't help chuckling with me. "Oh and uh…you might want to stay on your toes because ya never know who's gonna come round the corner."

"Yes, dad."

"There's a good girl. Now _behave _yourself." Dad stood up and popped his collar like he was about to do business. "Well, behave for the _most part_."

"I will. You sure you'll be okay, dad? I don't want…"

"Honey, I've done this so many times. The fools in there are _so old_ they don't ever suspect a thing. See ya in a minute and be ready for when I come out because we'll need to make a run for it."

With that, dad made his way in, taking his time with step he took. I leaned against the wall next to the door and kept an eye for trouble. I fought hard not to have a cigarette at that moment, but I couldn't let anything distract me. The bank was well away from the other stores down the street, so I didn't have to look at many people.

That was, until a group of three older guys came strolling down the street, chatting amongst themselves. One of them, who had a red cap on, was smoking a line of cannabis which made my stomach turn. The other two were right behind him, almost like he was a leader. I stared at them as they 'swaggered' down the street, until one of the boys took a glance at me as they were quite close to me. I didn't recognise him at all, but he seemed to instantly know who I was, as his mouth opened until they were the same size of his eyes. I saw him grin and then tap on the guy with cap's shoulder, who darted around. I heard them whispering amongst themselves in a huddle. They thought they were keeping their voices down, but little did they know I could hear every word.

"Oh my god, pal, look, it's her, the little psycho chick from Gotham Middle School."

"Is that _her_?" the guy with the cap said.

"Yeah, dude, it's her," he whispered back. "That's Shaylee Napier, that's the crazy bitch who burnt down a class and then attacked a kid."

"No way!" the other guy exclaimed.

"The one that bullies my sister?"

My eyes widened as I looked at him in horror. I don't bully _anyone_.

"Yeah, that's her, I know it's her, she hangs around with my little brother. She was on the news yesterday, too."

The guy with the cap, who I now recognised as Kayley Lyons's older brother, Darren, then glared at me, before turning back to his friends. The guy who had recognised me looked an awful lot like Jason, so he was obviously Jason's older brother, someone who I was aware of. Jason told me they don't get on, but I knew Kayley was close with her brother. I didn't let that put me off though. I continued to observe them gossiping about me, folding my arms as they did so.

"Is that definitely her?" Darren asked.

"Yeah, I know it's her," Jason's brother said. "I've seen her before."

Darren suddenly stormed over to me, until he was high above me, followed closely by his two friends. I stared up at him, still folding my arms. His attempt to be intimidating was pathetic, he didn't scare me at all. I was used to people being in my face anyway. This was all very coincidental that I happened to be facing Kayley's brother right there at that moment. What was he even doing up and about that early in the morning anyway?

"You that Shaylee Napier?" he asked, sharply, flicking his wed away to one side.

"Yeah," I said, like it was obvious.

"So you're that one who threatened my sister, are ya?"

"I never threatened her, pal, get your facts right."

"Ooh-hoo-hoo…someone thinks they're big, don't they?"

"Yeah, you."

"You think you're so tough, little girl, huh?" Darren said, getting even closer to my face.

That was all it took to set me off. The anger came so quickly that it almost felt natural.

"Get out of my face, dickhead!" I yelled at him.

"What you gonna do, you little bitch?"

I pushed him hard, making him lurch backwards but he didn't fall. His two friends started laughing, just infuriating me even more.

"Fuck off!" I shouted.

"You think I'm gonna just do one after you threatened my sister, you silly cow!"

"Sill cow, am I?" I taunted, pushing him again. That startled him.

"Hey, don't push him, you little bitch!" Jason's brother said, yanking me by my coat sleeve.

I sharply pulled away from him, to only be thrown down on the floor by the other guy. I quickly stood up again, ready to hit him in his hideous face, but Darren was soon in my face again, making we walk backwards into the wall.

"You gonna hit a girl, are you?" I scolded at him.

"No, of course I'm not, I'm not that _low_, unlike you."

"Unlike me?!" I laughed mockingly. "You don't even _know_ me!"

"I know what you did to my sister! She told me! She said you pushed her and grabbed her by the hair and was screaming in her face!"

"Maybe I did, but, she pushed me to do it!"

Darren then suddenly grabbed me by the collar, but I soon struggled out of his grasp and pushed him again.

"She _pushed _you do it?! What a load of bullshit!"

"It's _not _bullshit! Maybe you, big man, should tell your sister not to lie about something like _hearing voices _when some people actually can! Someone like me for example!"

"Don't give me that shit, little girl!"

"Little girl? Who'd you think you're talking to?!"

"Shut up!"

"No, _fuck off_! No, I won't shut up. You can't tell me to, you don't know me! You don't know what's going on in my head, in my _life_, do you?!"

"Yeah, you really are fucked up in the head, aren't you?"

I paused, glaring at him. I started to see red.

"What did you say?" I snapped.

"I said you're fucked up in the head. Burning down a classroom…"

I screamed deafeningly and punched Darren in the face, making him fall backwards, where one of his friends caught him. The guy who wasn't Jason's brother went to his aid, while Jason's brother got into my face, about to say something. There was no way he was going to get a word in edgeways.

"Get _away _from me!" I snarled. He backed away as I continued to scowl at him. Darren managed to get to his feet and I folded my arms and raised my eyebrows at him.

"Just hit her, Darren!" the other guy said.

"Yeah, come on, asshole!" I shouted.

Darren stormed over where I punched him again and then kicked him hard until he was on the floor again. Jason's brother pinned me up against the wall, but he was stronger than Darren, and I struggled to escape this time.

"Are you actually crazy?" he sneered.

"_No_!" I roared.

"You need serious help."

"Get the _fuck off _me!"

"Don't know why my brother hangs around with a dirty little shit like you."

"A _what_?! Fuck you, you don't _know me_! At least your brother isn't a dick like you!"

Right at that moment, I heard a gun load. The boy holding me against the wall looked alarmed and instantly let me go as he backed away. The three boys looked startled as they looked in the same direction. I turned to see dad standing outside the bank entrance, pointing a gun at the three boys. I was so relieved he'd arrived just in time, looking highly frightening. His face was one of utter disgust, as he slowly sauntered over, still clutching the gun in his hand.

"Oh, hi, daddy," I beamed, as he walked over.

"Oh, shit," Darren said under his breath.

"Oh shit, indeed, young man," Dad said, raucously.

He came over to me, but he didn't comfort me. I knew this was a test of my strength. I looked around to make sure no one would spot us, but conveniently no one came around.

I was shaking my head at dad. "Unbelievable, daddy. Think it's okay to hurt me."

Dad addressed the group of boys. "So, you little boys think it's acceptable to attack my daughter, do you?"

"Actually, pal, she attacked us first," Darren mumbled.

"Oh be quiet," Dad snapped. I smirked as I saw dad approach them like a demonic figure. "Look at me, the three of you. Look at me! What do you think you're doing, huh?!"

"We…"

"Ah-da-da-da, shush." By now dad was up in their faces, and they weren't looking so tough anymore. Dad suddenly grabbed Darren by the collar, as the other two backed away, nervously. I couldn't help but giggle under my breath. "So what exactly did she do that was so unbelievable, huh?" Dad dug the gun into Darren's head. He then addressed me, as he turned around, dragging Darren with him. "What did they do, baby girl, hmm?"

"They tried to threaten me, dad," I replied, sweetly. "They had me pinned up against the wall. I fought them back but they carried on."

"Oh, well…we can't have _that _now, can we?"

He shot his head back at Darren.

"Let me go, you freak!" he cried.

"Freak?" Dad burst into laughter. "I'm a freak for defending my daughter now, am I?"

"She's just the same as _you_! No wonder she's…"

"And I wouldn't want her any other way. Now listen pal." His voice suddenly turned cold and malicious. He was glaring at Darren, not taking his eyes off of his. He was giving him a masterclass in how to be_ really _intimidating. But dad was more than that. He was truly terrifying, even scaring me a little, but I couldn't help but smile as he defended me. "If I catch you…or if she tells me you come _anywhere near _her again…then I won't just keep this loaded. It will _fire_. You understand me?" Darren didn't answer. "I said _do you understand me_?!" Dad shouted.

"Yes, yes, I understand!" Darren cried, pathetically.

"_Good_." Dad let him go but kicked him to the ground and spat on him before he pointed his gun at the other two. "Now run away, little boys, before I deck ya brains out!"

They didn't have to be told twice. Like the little boys they truly were, they scampered off down the street until they reached the end, away from the town centre. Dad then randomly let off a gun shot, making me jump a mile. He then turned to me, who was rubbing my neck as the guy had pinned my hard by my collar.

"Are you okay, princess?" he asked, rubbing my arm.

"Yes, dad, I'm fine," I answered, putting my hands to my head. "God, they annoyed the _crap _out of me though."

"Make you angry?"

"God yeah. That was Kayley's brother, thinks he's the big man, trying to call me a freak and stuff about what happened on Thursday _just _because Kayley was in the room when it happened. I said to him she's the reason it happened! In fact, she's the reason I got _expelled_!"

"Well, don't worry about him anymore, he's not bothering you now. Silly little boy."

"God help my future boyfriends. Did you get the money, dad?"

"Of course I did. I was lucky because there was a lot of people in there, too distracted to notice me nicking a couple of dollars. Anyway, we better get moving before someone notices, honey. Plus, I just fired a gun in broad daylight, better make a move before the cops coming investigating."

He grabbed my hand and we rushed back to the car, and we were soon dashing down the streets again. The whole journey I was slumped in my seat with my hands over my head. I managed to quickly contain myself before we arrived at the clothes store, like dad had planned.

"You feeling okay?" he asked, as we pulled up in the car park.

"I'm fine, dad, really," I replied, reassuringly.

"Okay, check before you move anywhere."

I did so, and before I knew it we were in the store. As we entered, dad leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"Get anything you want," he said, craftily. "There's no cameras in here because it's just a cheap charity store. I'll distract the store owner. Use your head. Don't get anything too big."

I nodded and I had a good look around. I was immediately attracted to the jewellery section, which I quietly headed to while dad went over to the counter. Luckily, the store was so shit that no one else was in there, plus it was early in the morning. I knew dad would use this to an advantage.

As dad talked to him, getting him deep into conversation, I looked carefully at what I wanted. There was something that immediately caught my eye: gorgeous black hoop earrings that had bats dangling from the bottom. I took them off the rail and admired them for a while, tracing them carefully. I firstly checked around every corner to make sure no one could see me, including the store owner and the entrance to see if no one could spot me. When the coast was clear, I quickly dug it into my coat pocket, turning my back as I did it. I was very careful but also sharp. Once I'd done it, I casually strolled over to dad at the counter, who was still talking to the shop assistant. I'd made sure I'd buttoned my pocket.

"Ah, okay, darling?" Dad greeted, putting his arm around me.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"What were you looking at?"

"Oh, just the jewellery over there. All really pretty."

"Find anything you fancy?"

"Uhh…no, not really." I couldn't help but grin, but dad continued to smile down at me. "Not much."

"Ahh, okay."

"This one yours, is she?" the man on the counter asked, rather stupidly.

"Yeah, this is my daughter," Dad said, proudly. "Fourteen next month."

"Oh you can definitely tell she's yours. Same eyes."

"Yeah, I'm glad I got his and not my mom's," I said. "Hers were blue, they just wouldn't match me."

"Anyway, thanks, dude," Dad said, as he began to turn away.

"Oh we _going _now?" I asked.

"Why yes, you said you didn't see anything you fancied, so we might as well go now."

"Oh, okay, daddy."

He winked at me, making me giggle.

"Thanks for visiting!" the guy called waving.

"A pleasure to come!" I called back.

As soon as we were out of there, dad grabbed my hand and we ran back to the stolen car, laughing all the way. My mood had instantly changed and it was so wonderful. Running through the streets like a madwoman, feeling the breeze…I felt freedom. I felt it even more now I knew I wasn't in the clutches of school.

Once we were back in the car and strapped in, dad turned to me before turning on the engine.

"_So_…did you get anything?" he asked, smirking.

"Yep!" I replied, full of joy. I got the earrings out of my pocket and rattled them in his face. "Look, look, look!" I laughed. "I got this without getting caught!"

"Wow, baby!" Dad laughed. "You really are a natural. Didn't notice a _thing_. But, why earrings? You don't even have your ears pierced."

My smile faded as I realised my idiocy. "Oh no!" I cried, putting my face in my hands. "Oh bollocks!"

Dad was laughing uncontrollably. "Don't worry about it, ya silly billy!" he cackled. "You still _got it_, didn't you?!"

"Well, yeah," I replied, "but, still, I guess I got too excited and forgot about the fact I don't have my ears pierced."

"Ah, well, just for that, I'll let you have them pierced. For your birthday."

I gasped as dad started up the engine. I was grinning widely at him.

"Really, will you?!" I exclaimed.

"I don't see why not. You're not in school anymore so they can't nag you about it."

"Thank you, dad! But I thought you were giving me a phone."

"I am, but you can have that as an extra for showing daddy just how tough you are." He affectionately pinched my cheek.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome, princess. Now, let's go home. I'm starving. Gotta eat something before I meet up with the guys."

"Can I come?"

Dad chuckled. "No, honey."

"But why?"

"Hey, you've had your time today. Besides, it's too dangerous. I don't want you getting hurt. You know what happened, last night, remember? All sorts of ugly can happen if I get frustrated. Maybe when you're older, Shay, but even then, you'll probably be wanting to do stuff by yourself. Oh and by the way, I can't be there all the time when you nick something, you know. You're gonna have to be sneaky if you wanna do that yourself. You were lucky today that no one was in there, but I _knew _there wouldn't be. I'd made it easy for ya."

He started reversing out of the car park and he drove back to that alleyway where we first discovered the car in minutes flat. Once we'd walked home, I put those earrings in my drawer for safe keeping, and dad made us some lunch before heading out again.

Even though that morning had that crazy little incident with Kayley's brother and that, I still loved it. Even though I was angry, I just _loved _witnessing dad showing people their true colours, showing how scary he really could be. I was lucky he was like that, because I knew he could defend both me and him.

Darren Lyons never did bother with me after that day, in fact I never saw him again. I never saw Kayley again either. I was so glad to see the back of them and school all together. I was missing my friends as it was, but I was even missing Chelsea, but I'd miss art classes more than anything else.

The next weekend, I did finally get a chance to meet up with Chase at his house. He was very good with me, trying his best to understand my point of view about what happened at school and stuff. I told him all about how I was going to move forward and defend myself more. I even told him I'd stolen some things, but he didn't seem to mind. He himself had stolen before then, but he didn't dare tell his mom. Although he did seem concerned about me, asking me if I needed to seek anger management or something. I calmly as possible stated I couldn't be doing with going through _that _process. We regularly met up, mostly spending Friday nights together, now I didn't go to school anymore.

Dad didn't even bother with trying to get me into a new school, as the only other option was Little Hill, and I was _not _going there again. We agreed they wouldn't let me in anyway because of my reputation at both LHE and GMS.

Dad and I continued out little outings on weekends, where we mostly went through the same process. One Saturday he even let me get some money with him, although he wouldn't let me carry it, in case we got caught and I'd get the blame. I got better at it too, although I didn't have to yield a gun at anyone most days, dad did most of that stuff. It was almost like we were slowly becoming partners in crime, like he was my trainer. He wasn't training me to be a criminal, he was training me to defend myself and to learn how to provide for myself. And I _loved _it.

My fourteenth birthday came around in the April, and dad, as promised, bought me my very own cell phone. This time he insisted he's bought it and not stolen it, which I found hard to believe but I just went with it anyway. The first thing I did was ring Chase, and we arranged for me, the boys and Chelsea to meet up that afternoon once I'd eaten lunch with dad (Chelsea had now gotten friendly with them too, having a massive crush on Tom).

The guys from the City came down to the town to see me and we all hung around at the park, where I showed everyone my new phone. We quickly exchanged numbers, and Chelsea even tried her first cigarette. Alex and Tom had started smoking weed, but I didn't dare try some. I wasn't an idiot, I _knew _it'd mess with my head and just worsen my schizophrenia. They called me a pussy but I just ignored them, I wasn't smoking it just for their sake. I found it crazy how they'd started smoking it already, as they were only fifteen. Chase refused it as well, but he continued to smoke cigarettes regularly. We all got a McDonald's for dinner, which they all paid for me as a treat. We sat outside in the warm April breeze as I munched happily with my best friends.

"So what else you got for your birthday, Shay?" Tom asked.

"Not much, really. Apart from this phone and the pens Chase got me, I didn't get much else. My dad's taking me to get my ears pierced tomorrow, which he promised me two birthdays ago, but never mind."

"My mom won't let me have mine done, either!" Chelsea complained. "If she thinks I'm gonna be plain and proper I ain't, I just ain't."

"You had a good day, anyway?" Jason asked me.

"Oh yeah. Just nice to see you guys again."

"How's it been missing school?" Matty asked.

"It's been bliss," I replied. "I hated it _so_ much after you guys had gone."

"The middle school was _so much better_," said Alex. "I hate high school, it's so stressful."

"My dad said I won't be accepted into anywhere else because of what I did," I said.

"He's right," Chase said. "But you don't care, do you?"

"No, I have better things to do."

"Mrs. Quaid didn't half give us a lecture about it," Chelsea explained.

"So wish I saw it," said Chris.

"Did you tell them about what happened with Darren Lyons last month, Shaylee?" Chase laughed.

"Oh, yeah! You know that Darren Lyons?"

"Who, the guy who thinks he's the big man?" Chris said, making all the boys laugh.

"Yeah, Kayley Lyons's brother. He came up to me last month, while I was out with my dad at the bank he and his friends, one of them was your brother Jason, they just started threatening me after what I did to Kayley and shit, but I told him that Kayley was the one who lies about stuff and she pushed me to it! Well my dad came and sorted them out anyway, you should've seen their faces. Guy needs to realise his sister is an attention seeker."

"That Kayley is such an annoying twat," Chelsea said. "Thinks every guy is after her, when there really not."

"Oh, I would," Alex laughed, making them all chuckle in unison.

"Ew, Alex, you're such a pervert," Chelsea said, playfully.

"Ah, shut it, ya slut."

Chelsea and I both did our high-pitched girly giggles.

Once we'd finished and it was getting dark, we all headed back to park again, where they all started drinking. I had so much fun with them, messing around. I felt so relaxed and happy with them all, I didn't need to get drunk to have such a laugh with them. Chase and I were the only ones who didn't get drunk, in fact. Chase drank, but he didn't get pissed. It got to the point where they were so drunk they didn't know where they were all standing. Chelsea and Tom ended up eating each other's faces off in front of us all, making all the lads jeer and wolf-whistle while I just doubled up with laughter.

Once it got to the end of the night, around 10:30pm, people started to fumble off back home, to the bus station.

Well, that's what I thought.

"Hey, Shaylee!" Alex called in his overly-slurred voice. This was just as we were leaving the park, and I was standing close to Chase.

"What, dickhead?" I replied.

"You want me to walk you home?" he asked, tripping over his feet.

"Dude, I'll walk her home, it's not far," Chase said, helping him up. "Besides, you're pissed, you can't walk her. You need to follow the others back, if it's even possible!"

"I ain't pissed, Chase!" he shouted.

"Shhh! Shut up, man!" Chase laughed.

"Shhhhh!" Alex repeated. "Come _on_, let me take ya home and then I'll follow them back!"

"Alex, you can't."

"Oh, leave him be," I laughed, as I took Alex's hand. Chase looked slightly disappointed. "Come on, we'll all walk together and then you can walk him to bus station because he sure as hell won't get there safe by himself!"

"You _heard _the girl!" Alex shouted in his drunken state.

"Shush, man!" Chase chuckled. He then looked at me, who gave him puppy eyes. "Oh, alright then," he said, reluctantly.

"Come on then."

We all walked back to my street, with Chase and I making sure Alex stayed upright. We eventually arrived at the end of my street.

"Okay, I'll be okay from here," I said.

"We still have a _long way to go_!" Alex cried.

"Shhh! I know, but I'll be fine."

"You know what? I'm going to order a taxi for him," Chase said. "There's no way I'm walking him to the bus station in this state."

"Do you have the money?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah." Chase was already dialling a number on his phone and walked away down the pavement, putting his hand to his ear and the phone to the other. I carried Alex around the corner away from Chase, where I made him stand upright by the wall. He slumped onto me, making me laugh.

"Alex, come on, stand up straight," I giggled, lifting him up. I desperately tried to keep my voice down.

"I _glad_…" Alex began, loudly.

"Shhh!"

"Sorry," Alex lowered his voice rapidly. "I'm _glad you_….have had a good birthday."

"Oh well thank _you _for making it so good."

I smiled at him, and he gave me a wide, animated grin back. He then was staring at my lips with his dreary eyes.

All of sudden, out of the blue, Alex roughly pulled me closer to him and harshly kissed me on my lips. I let out a muffled scream into his face as I sharply pulled away, glaring at him. For some reason, he started laughing.

"What are you _doing_?" I hissed.

"What? I thought that's what you wanted," he slurred.

"What? What, no! No that's not what I wanted!"

"Hey, come on Shaylee…" He tried to pull me in again, but I stood away from him, avoiding his grasp.

"No, fuck off!" I cried, my voice starting to tremble.

"Aw, come on, Shaylee, why else would you pull me round a corner…."

"To calm you down, you asshole! Why would you _do that _to me?!"

I felt a tear rolling, so I immediately turned away. Chase then came round the corner, as Alex stayed wobbling against the wall.

"Right the taxi's on its way," he said. "Took me ages to…" That's when he noticed me crying. He came and stood next me, trying to get me to show my face. "Shaylee? Shaylee, are you crying?"

"_No_!"

"What's wrong?"

I inhaled deeply as I furiously wiped my black eyeliner tears away and looked away from Chase. I pointed back at an embarrassed Alex.

"Don't let him come near me!" I whimpered. "Just, just…I want to go home. Just let me go home!"

"Alex, what did you do?"

"Don't ask him! Just…ahhh! You've made me look like a twat, Alex! Why would you _do that_?!"

"Shaylee…" Chase said. "Calm down, tell me…"

"I'll…I'll ring you tomorrow, just let me go home, please!"

He nodded and let me go, and I started running down the street in my high-heeled boots, still with tears rolling down my cheeks, which I desperately tried to flick away. I heard Chase's yells at Alex get fainter as I ran back into my flat, slamming the door behind me. I went straight into my room and sobbed into my pillow, helplessly.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe one of my closest friends had took advantage of me like that and just ruined my entire day.

Dad soon kicked my door down upon hearing my cries, and immediately came rushing over to me, sitting next to me on my bed, shaking my shoulders, gently.

"Shaylee!" he said, softly. "Shaylee, baby, what's wrong? Come on, I'm here…"

I latched myself onto him and sobbed into his chest and he shushed me, stroking my hair.

"Oh, dad…" I whined.

"What's happened, sweetheart? Come on, come on, tell daddy. Look at me. Look at me, come on." I did do, and he wiped my tears for me. "Shhh, calm down. What's happened? I thought you were going to have a lovely night…"

"I _was_…"

"Then why are you crying? It breaks me to see you like this, sweetie. Come on, come on….tell me."

"Dad, can I…can I tell you tomorrow? I don't really want to talk about it." Dad sighed and looked at me with a concerned expression. "Please, dad. I need…I need to sleep on it."

"Okay, okay," Dad said, gently, as I buried my head back into his chest. "Shhh. Quiet down now. Don't want you to go to sleep all hysterical now, do we?"

I sniffled as he continued to calm me down, petting me like I was a kitten. It worked, though. My crying made me tired out, and I almost fell asleep in dad's arms. He tucked me in and kissed my forehead before leaving me to sleep.

The guilt that I felt when he left the room was enormous. I knew now he was going to worry all night and not sleep. I didn't get a good sleep last night, I just couldn't stop thinking about what Alex had done.

Chase was going to go mad at him.

Remember how I said I had a little crush on Chase? Well that grew even bigger after that night. It was strange, because I knew that Chase had a crush on me, I just _knew _it, but I knew how conscious dad was about me and boys, especially now as I was a teenager. I guess that's why I chickened out of telling him about what had happened. I felt so pathetic about sobbing over it, but I couldn't help myself.

But I guess that was the downside of being free. I wasn't in a safe environment anymore. _Anyone_ could take advantage of me. I knew I wasn't safe, I liked to think I could take on the world now I had freedom.

I knew I was fucking crazy. But it didn't matter. I was free.


End file.
